


The One Rule

by KLCtheBookWorm



Series: Part of the Night [1]
Category: Dark Knight Rises (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-24
Updated: 2014-02-05
Packaged: 2017-12-21 06:36:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 30
Words: 75,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/897007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KLCtheBookWorm/pseuds/KLCtheBookWorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Batman has one rule he will never break, and there is one thing Selina Kyle will never steal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is the what-if that would not leave my brain until I wrote it out. The first sixty-five minutes of the _Dark Knight Rises_ happen as on screen before events veer off into this alternate universe.
> 
> These two chapters are being posted early for entry into [BatCat Week](http://batcatweek.tumblr.com/) Day 4: AU. Hope you enjoy them enough to tune in when I finish the story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **January 3, 2017:** I finally got around to posting this story at FanFiction.Net, so I'm updating this story with my edits.

Selina landed on the roof of her apartment building with a grin. Not that the night was anything worth grinning about: Daggett tricked her over the CleanSlate and had muscle willing to kill him to get her head. Then Batman had to swoop in and help her, but she got away clean before the legend himself snapped the cuffs on her. She breathed through her chuckle and headed down the fire escape.

Jen sat on the armchair with only one lamp on in the living room/Selina's bedroom. Selina's good mood bubbled higher since she could tell her about tall, dark, and mysterious right away. She opened the window and slid halfway inside. "You won't believe what happened tonight."

A hand from the shadows grabbed Selina's throat and yanked her into the room. Someone slammed her against the wall. A meaty forearm pressed against her throat and collarbone, and an equally meaty leg and hip pinned her dangling legs against the wall. She didn't recognize the stoic black man holding her up.

Four armed men filled her room: the one who held her, one who aimed a gun at her over the black man's shoulder, one who stood behind the armchair to grab Jen, and one who left the door and walked closer to Selina. He was a Caucasian man with brown hair and a beard. A red scarf wrapped around his throat where the black jacket left it exposed. "Where is Batman?"

His pal eased up so Selina could speak. "I don't know. I ditched him as soon as I could."

"After the way he came to your rescue against us? Is that any way to show your gratitude?"

"What gratitude? My hand still hurts from him knocking the gun out of it."

The smirk didn't reach his cold blue eyes. "You think you are such a clever thief, playing both sides so you always land on your feet. Bane is about to jerk the ground beneath Gotham away and then where will you land?"

Selina took a deep breath. Two more men were with this group, and stood in the tiny kitchen hallway to the main door of the walkup apartment. "I'm not about to apologize for wanting to live. So what deal do you want to make to guarantee that?"

"Why did he save you? You are not one of his good people of Gotham."

She rolled her eyes. "He had questions about the job I pulled at Wayne's." The pressure increased on her throat without the big man in front of her shifting his weight.

His leader continued. "Batman will approach you to find Bane. You will lead him to the tunnels from the O'Brien Street subway station. Refuse and Bane will snap both your necks like twigs." He strolled to the armchair and stood in front of the cowering Jen. He ran his knuckles down her cheek. The blonde woman jerked back from his hand and pressed against the back of the chair. "But only after his soldiers have grown tired of using you whores."

They filed out without an answer from Selina. She glared at them until the outer door shut, and then she rushed to the armchair. "Jen, are you okay?"

The young woman's thin arms clutched around Selina's waist. "I couldn't stop them, 'Lina. I'm sorry, I should've."

"Not your fault." Selina petted her blonde hair. "Batman had to save my ass from them earlier. It'll be okay; I won't let them hurt you."

"By doing what they want." Jen's voice hadn't sounded that lost since she finished therapy.

Selina pushed down her anger at Bane's men. "Since when have I ever given bullies what they want?" She patted Jen's back as Jen clung to her catsuit. "I've got the money from selling Wayne's Lambo." So much for refilling her retirement account with it, but living to retire was more important. "Pack a bag, kiddo. They can't hurt us if they can't find us."


	2. Chapter One

Bruce took a deep breath as the elevator doors slid shut. The Board of Directors was in Lucius and Miranda's hands now, and he had to trust them to save Wayne Enterprises from Daggett. He had one more piece of Bruce Wayne business to handle before he could concentrate on stopping Bane.

The elevator stopped on the floor for the Legal Division of Wayne Enterprises and the affiliated lawyers who managed the Wayne family personal business. Mr. Lorry's personal assistant saw him first and hit the intercom button. "Mr. Wayne is here. Go right in, Mr. Wayne; he's been looking for you all morning."

Bruce nodded at the breathless young man and entered the double doors the assistant usually guarded. Jarvis Lorry stood up and shook his hand over the desk. The burly man sat back in his seat. "Fine mess to wake up to. I've been calling you all morning."

"Sorry, I was with Lucius, making sure Wayne Enterprises remains running." Bruce sat down in front of the desk. "How bad is it?"

"Is it fraud?" He punched some keys on his laptop. Lorry had taken charge only five years, ago, but he already had developed the no-nonsense attitude Bruce preferred dealing with.

"It's fraud. Even if I was stupid enough to empty my personal bank account on future options, I would never sell my Wayne Enterprises shares." Lorry nodded as he typed. "And then there was the break-in at Wayne Manor."

"Break-in? You didn't report it to the police?"

"No, it was the night of the Wayne Foundation's Dent Day celebration and nothing of value was taken, so we decided someone must have went into part of the Manor that was closed off." The memory of Selina Kyle dressed as a maid sauntering toward him surfaced. Daggett hadn't paid her for his fingerprints; he could use that. "That must be how they got my fingerprints."

"We may never get a chance to prove that, but I'll add it to the report to the SEC. The strongest factor in your favor is the terrorist attack on the Stock Exchange."

Bruce shook his head so not to snarl that Bane accomplished that with a clean getaway. "I'm glad no one was hurt in what turned out to be an attack on me."

"True. We better freeze your other bank accounts in case the terrorists have access to them as well." Lorry stood up behind his desk. "I'll contact you as soon as we have a meeting with the SEC."

They shook hands and Bruce ignored the whispering from the others working on this floor as he entered the elevator again. It should have prepared him for the pandemonium outside the Wayne Enterprises building.

"Mr. Wayne, over here!"

"How does it feel to be one of the people, Mr. Wayne?"

"Mr. Wayne! Mr. Wayne!"

He let that wash over him. It was news, it was their jobs, and it was over as soon as he was inside his car. Only a tow truck hauled his brand new sports car--bought yesterday to replace the one Selina Kyle absconded with leaving Miranda Tate's party--onto its bed.

"Mr. Wayne, they're towing your car. I didn't know what to do; they had the paperwork."

Bruce turned from the sight and the apologetic Wayne Enterprises' valet. He looked up at his family name over the building's door. This wouldn't have happened to his father.

"Looks like you need a ride, huh?" Blake materialized at his side.

Bruce turned and saw a patrol car parked in front of the building. "Yeah." He followed the young police officer.

* * *

The GCN's perky news announcer smiled at the camera. "It's good to hear that he is improving. Everyone here at GCN wishes the Commissioner a speedy recovery. Now over to Jack Ryder for the leading story of the day: what did Bruce Wayne do to bankrupt himself?"

Selina switched off the television set and dropped her suitcase on the armchair. No wonder Bane's men paid a call last night. The storm had finally started. She shifted the hangers on her clothes rack. What role would best get her and Jen out of Gotham? Better question, where to go after Gotham?

She took a versatile sweater off the hanger and folded it into the suitcase. Europe had the most opportunities for her line of work, but did it offer enough hiding places for a guy like Bane? She sighed and added her favorite little black dress to the suitcase. Maybe she and Jen would get lucky for once, and Batman will defeat Bane. _Like the Kyle luck is ever that good._

Jen's voice carried up from the stairwell. "I told you. Money first."

Selina rolled her eyes. She had told Jen there was enough money from the Lamborghini to travel on. She didn't think she needed to tell the younger woman to avoid pissing people off right now.

"I don't think so." The familiar male's voice rose over Jen's, but not angrily. Selina moved down the hall to the stairwell.

"That's how this works," Jen said firmly.

"I don't think so." Wayne repeated a little louder.

Selina opened the door to their walk-up apartment. Bruce Wayne stood two steps lower than Jen to be eye-level with her as they argued. His grey Armani suit looked rumpled, like he had been through a ringer of a morning before landing on her doorstep. His knot on his mauve tie was loosened to second unfastened button of his shirt. "He's not a mark." Both of them turned toward her voice and Wayne looked relieved to see her. What had Jen propositioned him with? "And he doesn't have a cent to his name, anyway." She held the door open and gestured for him to follow her inside.

He didn't begin the conversation as his gaze swept over the knickknacks and dishes stored in the hallway kitchen. Both she and Jen compensated for a childhood with nothing by holding onto stuff now. She continued through to her bedroom/living room, which the half-glass partition revealed all its lived in glory. He paused at the narrow door while she tucked a pair of black jeans under her arm from off the futon sofa. So it wasn't the fine antiques at stately Wayne Manor, and he didn't appreciate those either.

"Yeah, it's not much, but it's more than you got right now." She rolled a black blouse into a smaller wad.

"Actually, they're letting me keep the house." He almost sounded apologetic for that good luck.

"The rich don't even go broke the same as the rest of us, huh?" She turned back to her suitcase, folding the clothes into it.

Wayne stepped more into the room, but kept himself out of her path. "My powerful friend might hope to change your mind about leaving."

Selina spared him a glance. "And how would he do that?"

His awkward fidget ceased. "By giving you what you want."

Like she would fall for that again. Daggett had wasted enough of her time. "It doesn't exist." She focused on her suitcase.

"He says it does." She glanced at Wayne as she went back to the futon. His eyes never left her. "He wants to meet, tonight."

"Why?" She snatched up a pair of leggings and watched him as she walked them to her suitcase.

"He needs to find Bane, and says you'd know how."

Bane's flunkeys were right. Her stomach clenched. Batman was offering himself up to them on a silver platter with Wayne and Selina carrying it straight to Bane. She should have run faster. "Tell him I'll think about it." She crossed her arms over the pain inside. She had her rules, damn it, not Bane's, not Batman's, not the police, and right now, the rules screeched like an angry cat. The tightness moved up from her stomach to her chest.

Wayne didn't pick up on any of that, which meant her mask was still on. "Okay," he answered, and then as if relieved the proposition hadn't resulted in bloodshed added, "I like your place."

There was no sarcasm or condensation in his parting shot. Had there been she would have never called after him. "Mr. Wayne."

He turned and leaned through the doorjamb. His white shirt strained to cover his chest.

"There's one thing I won't take from anyone." She pressed her folded arms harder against her ribs. "Their life. Everything else is fair game." She moved back to the futon for another article of clothing so not to see his face. "I can't help your powerful friend, not even for the CleanSlate. Bane wants Batman dead and will settle for us." The tightness in her chest eased enough for her to make a flippant smile. "How is the Riviera this time of the year?"

Wayne stepped past her and peered out the window between her painting and her vanity mirror. "Bane threatened you and your roommate last night?"

"Not personally, but his mercenaries beat me home. And threat doesn't describe the dread they left behind."

He craned his neck to find the street from her alley-facing window. "Did they put you under surveillance?"

She hadn't expected that question. Maybe he had taken security lessons to heart and that's why he never employed bodyguards. But worse, she should have thought of the ways Bane could keep them in Gotham. "I don't know, but he's hiring street kids. They know how to blend in." A selfish reason for his concern wiggled through her worry for her and Jen's skins. "But they'll write you off as another yuppie looking for Old Town kicks."

His shoulders never shifted under the slack in his jacket. "I'm already in their crosshairs." He turned to face her. "You could help me get my money back."

She plucked a black pantsuit off the clothes rack. He had no idea how harsh the real world was and hadn't done anything really to deserve this slap in the face. And Bane sure wouldn't spend the Wayne billions on Gotham's unfortunate souls. "I'm sorry they took it."

"No, you're not." 

"I stopped going to confession when I was twelve, and I'm not about to start again with the Feds." She folded the pantsuit into her suitcase. Toss her pity away, will he?

"We can work faster than the Feds." She crossed her arms again as she stared at him. "I'll pay you," he added with an air of price no objection.

"You're broke."

"Not if you help me. Why should Daggett and Bane profit from your expertise when they didn't pay you?"

She teased her bottom lip between her teeth. That sounded appealing and if it was just her neck they threatened to snap, it would be no decision. But Bane's flunkey had threatened Jen too. Selina's eyes shifted to the doorway. She couldn't let Jen get hurt.

"You and your roommate can stay at the Manor," Wayne offered. He caught her tell and her respect for him nudge high enough to consider his offer. "That will get you away from Bane's men for now. And if you'd rather leave Gotham at any time, you're free to go."

"I've stolen from you twice and you're giving me keys to a guest room?"

He shook his head at her skepticism. "You just took things. If you see anything you want, it can be part of your fee. Everything but the pearls."

"You really are attached to them." She smirked. "Let me talk to Jen." The smirk faded when she stepped into Jen's bedroom.

Jen looked up from the newspaper. "That's him? That's really Bruce Wayne?" She shook the front page with an older color picture of the man.

"Pipe down, he's still here." Selina leaned against the closed door.

"You made it sound like such a chore to kiss him. What does he want?"

"He wants to hire me to get his billions back."

Jen's eyebrows shot up. "Can you do that?"

"I have no idea. But I can name my price and he's offered for us to stay at his mansion."

Jen jumped off her bed before freezing. "Is it a trap?"

Good, she was learning something. "I don't think so. He hasn't even asked about his car."

"A mansion's got security to keep those creeps out, let's go!" Jen seized her packed duffel bag.

"Change into something that won't get you arrested for hustling, and I'll tell him it's a deal."

"'Lina, you really shouldn't need a deciding vote on spending more time with a hunk."

Selina shut the door and hoped Wayne hadn't heard that. He was looking at the books stacked on her desk with his hands in his pockets. "You've got a deal. Twenty-five percent finder's fee?"

"Minus the cost of anything in the mansion that catches your eye?" He watched her nod. "Fair enough."

She turned and plucked a cab-shaped magnet off the fridge in the hallway. She gave it to him as she went back to her clothes rack. "Call us a cab and ask for the Tahiti special."

He pulled out his cell phone. "I don't know if I have enough cash for--"

She rolled her eyes. "I'll cover it." She tugged a white blouse off its hanger and folded it into the suitcase. She better pack the black skirt that matched the pantsuit she had already packed.

Wayne followed her directions with the dispatcher while she decided on shoes. He pocketed his phone. "I'm not sore about the Aventador. Really I'm not," he repeated to her disbelieving look. "But it was paid for."

_And now it's paying for the rest of our transportation._ But she didn't tell him that while she put her black heels in the suitcase.


	3. Chapter Two

The cab arrived right on time. Bruce helped the driver load the luggage into the trunk while Jen Robinson and Selina climbed inside. Surprisingly, Selina took the center of the back seat instead of behind the driver. He wondered while he sat on her right who Selina was protecting from whom. She had given both him and Jen equal amounts of behave glares during introductions.

"Where to?" The cabbie asked with a brief glance over his shoulder.

"Head to Uptown," Selina answered. Her whole body tensed as she stared forward.

Bruce twisted into the corner of the back seat when the cab eased into traffic. A black SUV left the sidewalk parking a block down from Selina's apartment building and joined the traffic behind them. It quickly passed a red sedan between them, but it remained in the right lane. So Bane did have Selina under surveillance. And the men in that SUV will see him watching the back windshield unless he camouflaged it before they got closer. "Miss Kyle."

She turned to him. His hand cupped the back of her head and pulled her deep red lips against his. Her hands landed on the lapels of his jacket. He kissed her just as soundly as she had kissed him at Miranda's fundraiser while he kept one eye aimed out the back windshield. He eased back and saw something between arousal and anger in her wide brown eyes. "I think we need to clarify what you're paying for, Mr. Wayne. I became a thief so I didn't have to sell my body."

"The black SUV is following us." Her eyes glanced at the traffic without turning her head. The SUV moved in front of a blue Mini Cooper in their lane and kept a green economy car between them and the cab. "And at least I didn't pick your pocket."

Jen's shoulders scrunched up. "Those creeps won't ever let us go. So much for a different life."

"I can lose 'em," the cabbie said and shifted his hands on the steering wheel.

"Go to the airport and keep some distance. But not too much; they need to follow us that far."

One of Selina's hands pressed down on his chest as her thumb swiped her lipstick off his lips. "They won't let us leave Gotham and we can't lose them with airport traffic."

"It's just like dealing with the paparazzi. Give them a story they expect to see and they never look for anything else." Her neck was rigid under his fingers. He rubbed it softly as he let her go. "What are the rules of our arrangement?"

She resettled in the seat after glancing out the back windshield again. "I don't kill, I'm not a prostitute, we can leave whenever we want, and Jen's off limits."

"I will date, you know." Jen slouched further down at her end of the bench.

"You aren't starting with the most notorious playboy in Gotham City."

"I thought I recognized you," the cabbie said. "Didn't you sleep with the whole Russian ballet?"

Bruce shook his head. "I dated the prima ballerina of the Moscow Ballet. She invited the whole troupe to my yacht for a weekend cruise, and the press went nuts with the story."

Jen turned to look at both him and Selina. "Well, if flexibility's a turn-on, Selina has that in abundance."

He remembered how high her legs had kicked Bane's men last night. Selina glared at the younger blonde. "I don't sleep with clients."

"That rule made sense with Daggett and his ferret-faced errand boy. Not so much now."

Selina turned back to him. "Kindly disregard everything she says. It only sounds like English."

"Okay." He looked out the back windshield. "They're creeping closer."

The cabbie adjusted his speed.

Jen laid her head on Selina's shoulder. "Don't be mad. I'm not used to being a rule."

Selina pressed her head against Jen's. "You've always been a rule."

"We're getting close to the airport," the cabbie said.

"Go to passenger drop off." Bruce glanced at Selina's furrowed eyebrows. "You two duck while we make it look like you ran inside for the audience."

She blinked and then smirked slowly. "You have a devious streak, Mr. Wayne."

"I value my privacy. It's a shame what measures one must take to get any." Her smirk remained in place. He liked it better than the wide eyes attempting to mask her fear.

The cab rounded the curve leading to the airport and the black SUV was seven cars behind them. They pulled into one of the passenger drop off lanes. Jen curled up against Selina so her head didn't show through the windshield. The cabbie swerved into an open parking spot at the curb before the airport doors. Selina slid down the seat and against Bruce at an awkward angle giving him space to sit.

The cabbie popped the trunk and jumped out of the driver's seat. Bruce climbed out of the back seat. The black SUV pulled under the shelter the airport had over the passenger drop off lanes. His gaze slithered over all the vehicles and the airport doors before he got back into the cab.

Selina and Jen had rearranged themselves on two-thirds of the seat. The blonde young woman shook as she burrowed into Selina's stomach. So that's why the jewel thief masked her fear. The older brunette hugged and craned her head up so he could sit. He gathered her long brown hair so he didn't sit on it, and then pressed down gently on the top of her head until it rested on his thigh.

Her brown eyes narrowed.

"Relax," he said. "Don't hurt your neck."

The cabbie slammed the trunk shut before he slid back into his seat and put the cab in forward motion in one well-practiced move. "Where to now?"

"Head to the Palisades and keep an eye on our friends."

"One guy jumped out of the shotgun and ran into the airport." The cabbie steered the cab into the flow of traffic around the airport. "The SUV is moving."

Jen whimpered and Selina's grip tightened around her.

"It's parking," the cabbie announced.

"He must be waiting for his buddy inside the airport." Bruce glanced down at Selina.

She smiled crookedly. "So was the Russian ballerina this much fun?"

"No, she was understanding." He remembered Natasha's broad smile as they pulled up to the restaurant intent on bumping into Rachel and Harvey Dent. "Are you concerned brother or do you want the brunette whose picture is on your desk to be jealous?" she asked.

"Maybe both," had been his response. A more honest answer than he had given Alfred. Why hadn't Alfred told him the truth then or in the eight years since? He forced his mind away from that pain to the present.

"Rare trait," Selina said.

"We had different priorities," he answered the curious gleam in her eye. "She wanted to dance for a few more years, and the American and Russian managements told me to go patronize musical theater."

Her smile blossomed into a grin. "Did they make you pay for the shows that got cancelled?"

"I volunteered. Didn't want the ballerinas punished for it."

"You're a soft touch, Wayne."

Jen squirmed. "His soft touch is getting us away from the assholes who want to kill us. That's not a bad thing."

"True, it's not a bad thing."

"We're over the Lincoln Bridge and no sign of anybody following us," the cabbie said. "Go straight to Wayne Manor?"

Bruce helped Selina and Jen sit up again. "Yes."

Selina turned to Bruce. "Your friend, will he approve of you helping us like this?"

"He wouldn't want to see Bane hurt you any more than I do."

"Thank you for helping us." Jen said before she turned to watch the cab cross over the Queen's Bridge. She had stopped shaking.

"You don't have to thank me."

They fell silent as the rain pelted down on the cab. It obscured the landscape and didn't relent as the cab pulled in front of Wayne Manor.

Jen tucked her hair under the hood of her sweatshirt, grabbed her bag from the trunk, and bounded up the steps to the portico. Bruce grabbed Selina's suitcase and followed just as quickly. The rain still soaked through his suit jacket.

"Come on, let us in." Jen pressed against a column. Bruce patted down his pockets with a rueful smile and shook his head. "No keys?" she asked.

"I never needed any before."

"And I thought Selina exaggerated the class stuff." She yelled at the cab. "You gotta open the door, 'Lina!"

Bruce stepped back into the rain and avoided the swing of Selina's large black handbag as she dashed to the door. "The help abandoned you that quick?" She crouched in front of the keyhole with a pair of lock picks.

"I'm on my own now," he answered. It was a good explanation for why Alfred had disappeared.

Selina opened the door and strode inside. Jen scurried after her and turned as she walked to look at all the shrouded furniture. "This place is like a mausoleum," she blurted.

The older woman pivoted in the Hall. "Jen!"

Jen slapped a hand over her mouth.

His eyes crinkled as he smiled at her. "I've said the same thing more than once." He caught Selina's gaze. "The East Wing is habitable."

Heels clipped across the stone and onto the marble floor behind him. "Oh good, you're finally back." Miranda Tate brushed her soaked hair off her sodden shoulders. "No one answered when I knocked." Her smile faltered when she saw Selina and Jen behind him.

Selina tugged Jen's arm. "Come on, let's go dry out." She grabbed her suitcase and pulled Jen out of the Hall to the side staircase.

Bruce turned back to Miranda. Her cheeks flushed. "I'm sorry. I should have called. You have company."

"No, they're consultants. I'm thinking of turning the Manor into a bed n' breakfast for income."

She raised an eyebrow at his smirk. "And what does Alfred think about that plan?"

"He doesn't know."

Concern replaced her mocking. "No one answered the door. Where is Alfred?"

He didn't want to have that conversation with her. "You're soaked. Let me get you a towel or something."

She waved off his offer. "My car is coming back for me. I won't melt. I just wanted to tell you how the meeting went. Fox worked the Board like you've never seen." Her lips curved into an impish smile. "Daggett was furious."

"I bet he was. Too bad I had to miss it."

A silver Buick pulled up in front of the still-open front door. Miranda's eyes turned serious. "I will take care of your parents' legacy, Bruce." She cupped his cheek. "Take care of yourself. Gotham needs its good people."

All the light fixtures around them turned off with a snap. He stared at Miranda. It had been so long since anyone called him a good person, and now the whole universe conspired to make her take it back. Water dripped from their clothes and splashed on the tiles.

Miranda's hand tightened on his jaw before her lips pressed against his. This kiss was light and tender--nothing like the ones he had exchanged with Selina--and over before he responded. "Suffering builds character," she said. "Go take care of your guests." She sauntered out of the Manor and into the waiting sedan.

Bruce wiped the lipstick off his lips as he shut the door.

* * *

Selina had memorized the Wayne Manor plans she had gotten a hold of, and Pennyworth had given the catering staff a tour of the pertinent areas before the Harvey Dent Day celebration. So she led Jen straight to the bedrooms in use in the East Wing third floor. Jen, of course, found the Master Bedroom behind the first door she opened. "Wonder what he has in here."

Selina grabbed Jen's collar and hood before she crossed the threshold.

"Come on, you always say investigate the clients even more than the marks."

"This guy sneaked up on me while I was on the job. The time to pilfer through his bedroom is not when he's downstairs, even if he's occupied with his stuck-up girlfriend." She ignored Jen's skeptical look and shut Wayne's bedroom door.

"He didn't act like she's his girlfriend." Jen opened the door across the hall from the Master Bedroom. "And he was flirting with you in the cab."

"The man has flirting confused with breathing." Selina followed her into a bedroom not swathed in dust cloths. A lilac duvet was tucked under matching oversized pillows on a delicate four-poster bed. Two doors branched off the bedroom on the right wall. The first one was open and showed a walk-in closet ran alongside the hall.

"If Wayne is your worst example of how to treat women, I need to introduce your boot heels to some individuals I know." Jen peeled off her hoodie sweatshirt.

"He's not my worst example. But the rumor mill says nothing good. Not to mention his press." Selina left her rolling suitcase in the middle of the bedroom and opened the second door. Inside was a bathroom decorated in tans and whites. A soaking tub was nestled under the windows, a graceful chair was slid under the vanity, and towels were stacked neatly on the open shelving in the cabinet next to the separate shower. She grabbed two and tossed one to Jen.

She caught it and wrapped it around her hips. "The same press that calls you _the Cat_? I don't think you're being fair."

Selina peeked out of the towel covering her head. "The Joker crashed an orgy at his penthouse."

"And he denied the orgy with the ballerinas. You know man-whores don't do that."

Selina peeled off her wet black sweater and rolled it up in the towel. Maybe Jen had a point. The shut-in wrapped in a robe and sweats had left the orgies behind--if he had ever had them--but he was still a client. She slung her suitcase onto the bed. "He doesn't need a reminder from you that he has a decade's worth of orgies to catch up on."

Jen rubbed the towel against her damp T-shirt. "Please. Besides, he's totally smitten with you."

"The only time a guy like Wayne ends up with a girl from our side of the river is in romance novels." She pulled a dry T-shirt over her head. "No, it'll be Miranda Tate next to Bruce Wayne in the engagement announcement pages."

"So that's who the soaking-wet woman is. She should've taken off her jacket for maximum effect. How do you know she's stuck-up?"

"She damn near threw me out of her fundraiser until I donated and got Gladstone to dance with me." Selina tried not to scowl, but Wayne could have warned her. Though practicing Jen's fairness, Tate shocked him too when she appeared.

"The same party Bruce took the necklace back at?" Jen's eyes danced as she backed toward the hall door. "Taking this room will make it easy for him to find you."

Selina rolled her eyes. "That's Mr. Wayne to the likes of you and I until he says differently."

"D'uh, but I'll be right next door so you two keep it down." She darted down the hall.

Looks like Jen's Italian heritage was finally showing, and it was a matchmaking yenta. Selina carried the towel and sweater into the bathroom when all the lights snapped off. She stared at the row of dark scones above the mirror. "You gotta be kidding me."

She hung the sweater and towel to dry before going back out into the hall. Jen jumped with a nervous titter. "Gotham Power doesn't care what your name is."

"Guess not. I'll show you where the kitchen is. Pennyworth's office was next to it."

Jen managed not to tread on Selina's heels as they went down the back stairs. "Wouldn't it be quicker to talk to Wayne?"

"I doubt he knows what a light bill looks like."

Jen peeled off her back when they reached the cream and brown kitchen. Selina didn't blame her; it was the only room that felt cozy that she'd seen in this mansion. "I can't believe this place."

Selina left Jen in the kitchen and pushed open the adjacent door. She hadn't seen Pennyworth's office during the set-up for the Harvey Dent Day event. The rest of the mansion was as cold as a glacier, but these mocha-painted walls and dark furniture all created a warm cave in the middle of all the cold. Unfortunately, the lack of electricity made the office a literal cave. The desk was positioned close to the door to the kitchen, so she saw the paperwork resting neatly in the slots of an organizer.

"Holy shit! This pantry is bigger than our apartment!"

_Trust Jen to figure out if we'll starve or not._ Selina carried all the paperwork to the island in the center of the kitchen. She settled on a stool as she shuffled through the invoices. "Here it is."

Jen sat down on Selina's right on the long side of the island. "So what do we have to do to turn the power back on?" She said around a mouthful of something. A gallon carton of ice cream sat in front of her, and Jen shoveled another spoonful into her mouth.

"Jen!"

"What? It's just gonna melt."

"Can you get a bowl and at least pretend you're housebroken?"

"Good, you found the kitchen." Bruce entered through the same door they had. He had exchanged the soaked grey suit for black slacks and a white Oxford shirt. He pulled open a cabinet drawer and took out two spoons. He passed one to Selina before digging into the ice cream with his as he sat on the opposite side of the island. Jen snickered and pushed the carton closer to the middle. Bruce swallowed his ice cream. "Did the electric company send me a love note about this?"

"Those are called second notices," Jen said.

"No." Selina scooped some ice cream for herself, a rich French vanilla. "According to this, you're set up on auto pay. So as long as the money is in the checking account--"

"Lorry," Bruce said with a sigh.

"Who's Laurie?" Jen turned to Selina. "I thought she was Miranda."

"Jarvis Lorry is my lawyer who closed my checking accounts to prevent further stealing. So when the electric company's draft got rejected, this is the result." He waved his hand at the unlit ceiling lights, and turned to Selina. "You know Miranda?"

"If you count her nearly throwing me out of her fundraiser, yes I do. But I doubt Miss Manners considers that a formal introduction."

"I called her a society hag at the same party, and she still agreed to help keep Wayne Enterprises from Daggett."

"Yeah Team Not-Daggett!" Jen plowed into the ice cream again.

Bruce half-smiled at her enthusiasm. "So how do we raise some cash?"

Selina licked the vanilla from her lips. "Depends on what you want to do. You've got a mansion full of lovely collectable antiques, but auctions take time to set up." She tapped the electric bill. "If you want the lights on today, that leaves jewelry."

"You want to take something to your fence?"

"I don't have a fence in Gotham. Because of its intrinsic value, jewelry sells or makes collateral for a loan."

He blinked at her. "If you don't mind posing as my jewelry expert, the Wayne collection is in a safety deposit box at Gotham First National."

But not his mother's pearls. Maybe she always wore them so they've always been in the mansion. Selina filed that away with what she knew about this man and smirked. "I don't even need to pose, Mr. Wayne, but I will have to change."

"We have to make it before the bank closes." He glanced at his watch.

"Please don't leave me here," Jen whimpered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first time I've published a work-in-progress. Usually I wait until I have everything written and edited. I don't expect readers to be my betas, but I will appreciate any typo flags.
> 
> Comments and reviews always welcome! I hope to keep to a weekly posting schedule. It all depends on how fast I can write.


	4. Chapter Three

Bruce took a deep breath and gave the bank teller a bland smile once she stepped back from the open box. "When we're finished with the safe deposit box, we'll need to see Mr. Daniel to finish the rest of our business."

The teller frowned again, and while she had a pretty pout of a frown, he reached his limit of seeing it. "Mr. Daniel doesn't meet with customers, Mr. Wayne."

_Especially customers labeled broke by every financial news desk in the city and ridiculed by all your other customers._ "He'll meet with me or I'll take my business to another bank before the first of next month when the rental income for nearly half the real estate in Gotham City comes in." The teller's blue eyes widened and he softened his tone. "Thank you, we'll let you know when we're done."

She scampered out of the secure conference room. He took a deep breath to center himself and focused on the open mental box on the table.

Selina's heels brushed against the carpet as she circled around him. She hopped onto the table next to the deposit box. The hemline of the black dress she wore now rose over her knees as she crossed them. "I think I understand the whole recluse thing now."

"Do you?" That came out sharper than he intended. Damn it, he knew better than to let jabs from other businessmen actually hit him.

"I wouldn't want to socialize with that crowd of assholes either." She waved in the direction of the lobby.

He pushed his lips into a smile he didn't feel as he stared at the deposit box. "How blunt you are, Ms. Kyle."

"When I see an asshole behaving like an asshole, I don't feel the need to call him something different because of the size of their wallets. But I have manners and know to get out of earshot first, with their wallets if they were an asshole to me or mine."

He looked up at her face, but her sympathetic brown eyes replaced the smirk he had expected. "You didn't pick every pocket in the lobby."

"I'm not that good. But they deserve to have to cancel all their credit cards in a panic."

"They're entitled to how they feel. That fiasco with the Stock Exchange yesterday hurt more than just me."

"There's a difference between being upset and gloating over the misfortune of others." Selina shook her head. "Hand over the pretties, Wayne, before I change my mind about their wallets."

He reached into the deposit box and lifted out the handful of papers covering the various shaped jewelry boxes. "You're sitting there?"

"The way you kept peeking at my legs on the ride over here," she slowly kicked the top leg. "I thought you'd appreciate the view."

If she was offering... he handed her the first jewelry box and took a long look at her trim legs encased again in sheer black stockings. "In my defense, they are a pair of very nice legs. The second thing I noticed about you."

"Look don't leer." She peered at the silver bracelet. "A thousand, next." They went through the eight smaller jewelry boxes on top and only had a running total of roughly seventy thousand before they reached the long, flat necklace boxes at the bottom. She ran a finger over the embossed cracked leather box. "This is the first one labeled. Who was Helena Wayne?"

He had to think. "My great-great-grandfather's sister; she tried to join the Union Army during the Civil War--disguised as a boy, of course."

"Aunt Helena sounds like my kind of gal."

"My family was already involved in the Underground Railroad, but she didn't think they were doing enough. She got caught before she could train and ended up unofficially administrating on of the first outpatient departments connected to a hospital in the nation, right here in Gotham."

"You come from a long line of crusaders." She opened the jewelry box before he answered and whistled. "Oh Aunt Helena, I like your taste."

Bruce peered into the jewelry case. Emerald and silver beads covered the entire string and twenty-five large teardrop-shaped emeralds hung from the silver beads. The necklace was stunning on the yellowed white silk and would be even more stunning wrapped around a slender throat.

"Pass me my purse, please."

He picked up the black leather bag. "What do you have in here, a brick?"

She took it with a smirk, "Just the essentials. Not much experiences with women's purses?"

"No, I don't think anyone I ever dated even carried one. Expected me to pay for everything, I guess."

"Probably. Too trusting for my taste." She opened a glasses case and pulled out a pair of what looked like sunglasses, but he recognized a set of her goggles not attached to her mask. She slipped them on and studied the necklace again. "But I doubt brains was a quality you looked for in a date."

"They served a purpose, no reason to insult them."

"Too much information, Wayne." She moved a smaller lens in front of her left eye. "I don't want to know about you and the bimbos. What else is left in the deposit box?"

"One box left." She didn't look up from the emeralds, so he opened the last black box. Brilliant blue sapphire ovals surrounded by diamonds twinkled under the lights. Diamond-crusted butterflies connected each sapphire to another. A matching set of earrings rested in the center of the black form holding the necklace in place. His fingers clutched the box tighter as he froze.

"Wayne?" Selina took off the glasses. "What's wrong?"

He didn't realize how large the lump in his throat was until he answered her. "I didn't know this was here. I've only seen it in their wedding picture."

"I thought it was the pearls," she said softly.

He shook his head. "The pearls were the last necklace my mother wore." The crush of disappointment hit him in the gut. He lost Wayne Enterprise, thanks to years of avoiding his responsibilities. The energy reactor ended up a weapon instead of a way to improve Gotham. Batman was needed, but had chased Alfred away and was still considered an enemy by the police. Even if he defeated Bane, it wouldn't erase the insult to his parents' legacy. Nothing he had ever done with his life had measured up to their example.

The jewelry box snapped shut in his hands. Selina slipped it out of his grasp and set it back inside the deposit box. He blinked, took a deep breath to center again, and lost balance when she tugged him against her. Her arms tightened around him. He blinked again and eased his arms around her. The black blazer over her sheath dress bunched under his fingers.

She squeezed him before letting go. "Don't read anything into that. You needed it."

Bruce stepped back. "I won't give away your tough girl persona. I know how hard that is to cultivate."

She smirked. "Really? Is that why you needed the cane? Because you hurt your leg wearing tough girl heels?"

"Exactly. Flats for me from now on." This smile wasn't forced. "So what's your verdict?"

She picked up the emerald necklace. "This necklace is worth two hundred K thanks to the flawless quality of the emeralds and its age. Not that the other pieces are bad. Actually, your family has shown consistent good taste in jewelry. But it's worth more than the rest put together."

"I do understand the concept of more bang for your buck."

"You'd be surprised how few in your social circle do." She set the emerald necklace box on top of her purse and passed the other jewelry boxes to him.

"Nothing you want as part of your fee? Not even the diamond brooch?"

"Diamonds are traveling money and I'm not traveling right now."

Bruce mulled over that statement as he repacked the safe deposit box. She had announced at Miranda's fundraiser that she was targeting Gladstone's diamonds, and now she was giving him the reason why. She had vastly different set of criteria from the last thieves he had associated with. They had wanted whatever would score the highest amount with the least effort. Probably why they all got caught by the Bhutan authorities.

Once the teller had secured the box inside the vault again, she escorted them to Richard Daniel's office. The blond man smiled too widely as he strode across the room. "Bruce Wayne, it's been too long." Daniel appraised Selina while he shook Bruce's hand. "Always have a brunette on hand. Did Pennyworth pick this one out?"

"Never is not long enough," Bruce said in an undertone. "Ms. Kyle, Richard Daniel."

Selina shook his hand with a bland smile. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Daniel."

"Likewise, likewise." They settled in the chairs around Daniel's desk and he leaned back in his leather chair. "So a stock market gamble finally pulls you out of hiding. Fox should have engineered one years ago."

"Lucius has more integrity than to commit fraud." Bruce matched Daniel's posture but kept his eyes pinned to the man's face.

"We've all taken missteps on the market. No need to pretend it's anything else. But allowances must be made for being distracted by a pretty face." Daniel's subtle leer at Selina made it clear whose pretty face he meant.

"Everyone in Gotham knows it's fraud." Bruce glared at Daniel. "If I wanted to give up my family's company, I wouldn't need a hostage situation in the Stock Exchange to hide it."

Daniel shifted in his chair. "You've pulled crazy stunts before."

"With Wayne Enterprises?" Selina shifted to observe the interplay between the two men better, but Bruce stared unblinking at Daniel.

Sweat prickled at Daniel's hairline as he tried to smile. It was flat, but did show his teeth. "No need to lose your temper, Bruce."

"And there's no need for you to insult me or my business associate, Richard."

"Business associate?" Daniel glanced at Selina again, but without the leer this time.

"So spare us both your insinuations. You haven't improved your delivery in twenty-eight years, even though I rarely use my fists now when I lose my temper."

Daniel coughed and shifted his eyes away from Selina and Bruce to the painting behind them. "So what can I help you two with today?"

"I need new checking accounts set up first and to pay the electric bill at Wayne Manor. The real estate income needs to be directed to a new account, so the new deposits won't be caught up in this mess."

"The futures options drained your personal checking account before your lawyer put a freeze on it and your account for Manor operations."

Bruce set the jewelry box on Daniel's desk. "To open these accounts, I'd like to take a one hundred seventy-five thousand dollar loan with this as collateral." He opened the box and leaned back.

Daniel's fair eyebrows rose as he looked in the box. "The bank's appraiser will have to approve the expenditure, but it's only a formality for insurance. If you'll wait here, while I get the paperwork?"

"That's fine," Bruce answered. "I want to finish it all today." Daniel nodded and left them. Bruce sighed and moved to the window. The view of downtown Gotham wasn't bad; you could almost see the bay between the other skyscrapers.

"Put some cash in your pocket and treat us to supper, Mr. Wayne, and that will square the taxi bill." Selina said behind him.

"Fair enough. We should let Ms. Robinson pick the place for making her wait so long."

"So you have a favorite flavor of bimbo?"

His shoulders tensed at her tease and he continued staring out the window. "I don't. Daniel was talking about my childhood friend Rachel."

"That wasn't all of it. Did you play William Tell with him too?"

"No."

She tsked. "No, you boys talked about fists. And I'm getting the vibe I should lift his wallet."

"You'd pick his pocket for that? He was worse to Rachel."

"Now you know you can't leave it at that."

He sighed. "When I was eleven, somebody had the bright idea I needed more friends and arranged an outing with Richard Daniel. I brought Rachel along because she was the only one who could get me to have fun then. The nicest thing he said was associating with children of the help was beneath him. Rachel told him off, he retaliated by calling her worse names, and I nearly tore his head off when he made her cry. At least, Rachel and I didn't have to go on play dates with snobs after that. I'm sorry he learned the wrong lesson from the incident."

"I've been leered at by worse. So what happened to this Rachel?"

His hands curled into fists inside his pockets. "She was one of the Joker's victims."

Her intake of breath was sharp. "I wasn't in Gotham for his reign of terror." He concentrated on numbing the sting of failure and the new loss that Alfred had given him. Why hadn't she said anything? He would have protected Harvey better if he had known Rachel wanted the district attorney. He half-suspected it when he told her he would turn himself in. He didn't want to discuss it with Selina or, God forbid, Daniel.

Selina shifted in the chair behind him. "So why were all the talking heads screaming how you'd be in bankruptcy court tomorrow?"

A new topic of conversation made it easier to face her. Her large brown eyes were not as sympathetic as they had been in the conference room, but thoughtful looked good on her too. "Makes for better headlines, I guess. Or they think all my income comes solely from Wayne Enterprises."

Her head tilted as she smirked. "So you believe in diversification."

He probably shouldn't tell her. She would be the first to point out that she had stolen from him twice. But she didn't kill, she hugged him without hesitation, and he trusted her. "Roughly twenty-five percent of my income comes from the real estate and other businesses I own. By next month, I'll be a garden-variety millionaire, assuming I don't liquidate any other assets. But that's where my finances will stay if we don't reverse the fraud."

"Daggett wanted Wayne Enterprises bad enough to set up the Stock Exchange attack?"

"I hope I'm looking better by comparison."

* * *

Selina appreciated the time Bruce had to spend on paperwork. It gave her time to digest the surprises from him and lock them away where Jen wouldn't read them all over her face. He still mourned his parents. Never had she been gladder that everything she could have been sentimental over was yanked away by the system. But that wasn't his only loss, just the first one. So she let go of her unkind thought toward a friend who would let someone sink to the state she first saw Bruce in. All the money he had couldn't give him what he really wanted.

If Jen heard that, she would never shut up about the possibility. And Selina didn't need yet another neck to worry about right now. Her mask was in place when they found Jen in the lobby of the bank. "Hungry, kiddo?"

Jen tugged the earbuds out as she stood. "Famished. Did everything go okay? You took forever."

"I have a permanent cramp in my hand from signing so many papers, but other than that, everything went fine." Bruce steered them to the parking garage elevator. "What would you like to eat?"

"Pizza," Jen said. They hadn't parked Bruce's Rolls far from the elevator and Bruce unlocked all the doors with the remote. Jen scrambled into the back seat.

Selina slid into the shotgun seat and shook her head. "We can go to any restaurant in the city and you want pizza?"

"You asked."

Bruce buckled his driver's seat belt. "It's been years since I had pizza."

"Really, years? Nobody delivers in the Palisades?"

"Not to the Manor and Alfred didn't think it was healthy, so I guess the last time I had it was while I was at Princeton."

Selina smirked over her shoulder at Jen. "Looks like we're taking Mr. Wayne slumming. Lombardi's is just a few blocks away." Bruce nodded and headed down the street.

"And how long ago was Princeton?" Jen slid back and buckled on a seat belt.

"Seventeen years."

"You must've had some real shitty pizza to give it up for that long."

"It tasted like cardboard soaked with tomato sauce."

Both Jen and Selina snickered, and judging by his slight smile, that was his intention. "Lombardi's won't be that, Mr. Wayne."

"Call me Bruce."

Selina's eyebrows rose.

"It will keep us incognito longer. Trust me."

"All right, Bruce."

They found a place to park, and there was an open table despite the crowd, a round booth in a corner of the dining room. Jen shoved Selina over so she could have the end and then Bruce sat down on Selina's left. It made her feel trapped, but she squashed that feeling down to her toes. At least they were against the wall where no one could sneak up behind them.

Jen leaned her elbows on the table after the waitress left with their drink orders. "Nobody talks about you and college."

"I'm not a good role model; I never finished my degree." Bruce shifted on the bench so he could see Jen.

"Why not? It's not like finances were an issue."

"Now you're interested in college?" Selina asked.

"You did a semester. You don't think I can?"

"Other things became more important," Bruce said. "You went to college?"

"It was part of a long con. Who knew art students actually had to go to classes?" Selina looked at Jen. "You never mentioned college before. When this is over, we'll see about you starting if you want."

Jen grinned. "So what do billionaires study in college?"

"I can't speak for all of them, but I studied computer engineering and programming with a minor in accounting." He shrugged. "Alfred thought I should know how to read the financial ledgers for Wayne Enterprises."

"Why computers?"

"I'm good with them and I like to tinker. If you're serious about going, you should pick a major connected to something you're good at or like."

Jen's face fell. "There's only one thing I'm good at and I don't like it at all."

"That's not true." Selina jerked her hand that curled into a fist off the table and into her lap. "You haven't had a chance to experience a lot of the jobs that are out there."

"And I thought you were just worried about the rent."

The waitress set their drinks down on the table. "Ready to order?"

Bruce's smile feigned helplessness. "I'm entirely in your hands, ladies."

"Got any allergies?" Selina asked as Jen grinned.

"None."

"A large original with pancetta, pepperoni, sausage, red peppers, mushrooms, and extra mozzarella," Jen said to the waitress. The waitress left and she turned to Bruce. "You'll have to try anchovies and onions on another pizza. Selina hates 'em."

"That sounds like plenty," he said. A young girl about ten but wearing the staff T-shirt approached their table. She carried a Polaroid camera. "Hello there."

"Wanna I ate at Lombardi's picture?"

Selina smirked. "I bet the tourists love those."

The girl grinned. "Yeah, and I stamp the words on the bottom of the picture." She pointed to the self-inking stamp hanging on her belt.

Jen pulled out her puppy-dog eyes. "Please, Selina, I don't have any pictures of you."

"For good reason."

"It's a Polaroid! Nothing left behind."

"How much?" Bruce asked.

"Five dollars," the little girl focused on Bruce. "I'm saving for a photography class."

He pulled out his wallet. "You don't have to--" Selina started.

"We have to encourage young entrepreneurs," Bruce said as he passed a creased five dollar bill to the girl.

Jen squealed softly, wrapped her arms around Selina's waist, and pressed against her. "Smile, 'Lina, like you just got away with a huge score." She squeezed.

"I don't like--"

"Having your picture taken?" Bruce threaded his arm behind Selina's shoulders and leaned his head against hers. Her stomach rippled in response. "Pretend to be someone who does."

"You have a camera protocol, Mr. I-Hate-the-paparazzi?" The absurdity of that hit the same time Jen grazed her ticklish side, and Selina grinned as the girl aimed the camera.

She felt his breathy chuckle. "The paparazzi never ask." The flash went off before she could respond. Bruce and Jen unlatched from her at the same time, and the girl borrowed their table to stamp the message on the white margin of the picture. Bruce accepted it and passed it to Jen. "A memento of taking me slumming."

She waved it to make it develop faster. "And getting Selina to smile. I'll guard it with my life."

"Stop being so dramatic." Selina leaned over to see their developing faces. Her amused grim matched Jen's thrilled face, and the smile on Bruce's was warmer than any of the polite ones he had given inside the bank. It reminded her of his grin when he cut into her dance with Gladstone. "Your eyes crinkle when you're genuinely amused."

He leaned over her to see and her stomach rippled again. "So they do. Must be the company." He smiled again and his eyes crinkled. "You have a beautiful smile, Selina."

"You don't have to flatter me." But her lips curled up in a smile anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I'm sure everyone has seen the Tumblr meme of a crying Leo captioned "I want to be in the Batman trilogy too!" So I made it happen. You're welcome, Leo. Richard Daniel is the name of a bank official, a minor character, from the _Long Halloween_. The names I'm giving original characters come from either the DC universe or _A Tale of Two Cities_.


	5. Chapter Four

Bruce leaned back from his laptop on the desk and rubbed his eyes. Jen had the right idea to abandon them for the DVD collection that he had never bothered watching. He looked across the study at Selina. She sat cross-legged on the carpet now wearing black leggings and a knit blouse she had changed into when they had returned to the relit Manor. She had left her hair up in the bun she had worn to the bank. She stretched to scroll the laptop screen set on the table next to the large metal globe. He remembered ignoring chairs and preferring to scatter paperwork on the floor around him, just like her.

She caught him watching when she got up on her knees to type. "I don't know how much help I'll be with this. My experience with stocks is letting my mutual fund manager pick them."

"I'm more worried that someone innocent bought my Wayne Enterprises shares in good faith, but I doubt whoever planned this let that happen."

She nodded. "You found anything yet?"

"I think it was a one-time-use connection because I'm not finding a trace of it now. And this code is some of the cleanest I have ever seen." He sneered at his screen before sighing and shifting to the next section of code.

"Listen to you; you sound like a hacker."

"I could say the same thing. A cat burglar with a mutual fund?"

"Had." Her face fell slightly. "I had a mutual fund. There was an emergency about seven years ago and I had to liquidate it to handle it."

"Hence working for Daggett?"

"Hence working for Daggett. You were right about me being in deep with the wrong people."

The trace of regret in her voice almost made him wish he had been wrong. "You're not working for the wrong people now."

She smirked. "Fishing for compliments? Back to business, I don't think Daggett was the brains. He's a greedy little cheapskate, and I haven't found his name or Daggett Industries as someone who bought yet."

"He didn't need to. Second place among the shareholders was tied between him and Miranda Tate. With my shares split, the board had to chose one of them as CEO. Lucius swung them behind Miranda."

"With your blessing."

"I wasn't blessing Daggett. He doesn't pay his bills and he brought Bane to Gotham. Not that I can prove that." He tapped the key harder than he meant to.

"But not that he hired a thief?"

He looked up and met her eyes. "Not when I hired the same thief. But there's more to you than that."

"There's more to you too." She dropped her gaze first, and talked more briskly. "But I don't think Daggett would pass up the chance to get more shares, especially if they had been yours." She stood and bent back.

He turned his eyes away from her arched body with a hard swallow. He focused on the code again. "I think you're right, but Daggett is neck deep in this." He rubbed his eyes again.

Selina closed her laptop and padded over to the desk on her bare feet. "And he didn't get what he wanted."

"Maybe we can use that." He focused on the code again and blinked the symbols back into lines.

"We can." She stood in front of the desk and gently shut his laptop. "Tomorrow. Let's go to bed."

There was nothing suggestive about the phrase, but he imagined dragging her upstairs and losing himself in her. He wanted to taste her as badly as he wanted to find Bane and pound his skull in for threatening Gotham and putting Gordon in the hospital. "I'm confused. You said you don't sleep with clients."

"You're sleeping alone." She circled around the desk. "But I'm in no condition to pull an all-nighter and you had a longer day than I did, so we should come back to this in the morning." She leaned her hip against the desk drawer and he turned his chair to face her. "I'm not out to be a notch on your bedpost."

He stood up, taller than her without her high heels. She didn't back away. "And what if I want to be a notch on yours?"

Her smirk gave way to a more serious expression. "Maybe I want something more."

"I know I do." He reached behind her and plucked the hair pin out of her bun. Her brown hair cascaded over his hand and her shoulders. He wove the thick strands through his fingers before Selina pulled his arm down and took back her hair pin.

"There's a limit to how long your kind slums around with mine." Her eyes filled with regret.

He was tired of her constantly harping on the one thing that didn't mean a damn thing. "I've got more in common with you than anyone else in my social circle." Her lips parted, but he continued, needing her to understand. "That bone deep anger because life is more than unfair; it cuts your heart out and everyone expects you to smile again. I know it. Finding a way to help that no one suspects, I've done that. Even if I'm guilty of ignoring the details."

She shook her head. "You never took what they had."

"No, but I tried to guilt them into giving it up voluntarily. Until I couldn't put that mask on any longer. You woke me up from that apathy."

"You are unbelievable." She stepped back from him. "If I hadn't broke in and stole your prints--"

"Daggett would've hired someone else to do it. And I would have lost out on meeting you." He walked up to her again.

"And that makes up for all this mess?" She waved her hand.

"More than." He cupped her cheek and aimed his lips at hers.

They pressed against the palm of her hand. "Don't make me knock you on your ass again. If I make one exception for you, word will get out, and the only job offers I'll get will be for rolls in the sheets instead of cash." She shrugged as she lowered her hand. "Bad business." She headed to the study's door.

"What about after?" He turned off the lights and caught up with her in the hall. "After this job is done and I'm not a client any longer."

She paused on the stairs. "You'll go back to your supermodel bimbos and eccentric billionaire hobbies. Actually, get some new ones. The archery in your robe is pathetic."

"I never wanted the supermodels." He joined her on the landing. "What about staying? Assisting me find better ways to help with my money?"

"That sounds like a job offer, which doesn't solve anything."

Well, that was what it sounded like, and he also remembered never having this much trouble with these negotiations before. If anything, the trouble was keeping the women out of his bedroom. He followed her up the stairs. "I'm out of practice."

"Tomorrow's a brand new day for you to try again." Surprisingly, she patted his cheek before opening the bedroom door beside the one he thought she had claimed. He saw Jen sprawled out on the bed inside. She closed the door and he retreated to his bedroom door. "If you don't mind me asking, why did you start ignoring the details?"

His hand tightened on the door knob, but he didn't turn it nor did he look at her. "My father built the elevated train system for all of Gotham. After I fixed it, I wanted to give something to the City on that level. A fusion reactor capable of supplying clean energy is what I worked on. Only three years ago, a scientist figured out how to weaponize the design. My best idea for Gotham will blow it up." He glanced at her concerned face. "You're probably right to keep your distance, Selina. Everything I want dies." He ducked into his bedroom and rested his back against the door. The door across the hall opened and closed.

He rubbed his face. What the hell was he doing? He had to stop Bane; all he needed to do was protect these two women from him. He stared out the window at Gotham in the distance. He couldn't leave them here unprotected to run around with the police again. And after a day like today, he didn't want another police chase. Daggett was the key to finding Bane now. He pushed off the door and went to the bathroom.

* * *

Selina found herself the first one awake with birds chirping in the morning sunlight. Boy, that was a change from Old Town's traffic. She felt fully rested even if her mind was still foggy with dream images. She didn't remember the details, but it had Batman and Bane fighting--big surprise. Funny how her dreams went there when she fell asleep worried about Bruce Wayne.

Her stomach twisted. She knew what kind of day he had and she had poked at his psyche like it was a ball of yarn and then sent him away without any distractions because of her rules. She was lucky to still have this job. She dressed in the black slacks from her pantsuit and an ivory blouse but left the jacket laying across her suitcase as she went downstairs to figure out breakfast.

The fridge was stocked with milk, eggs, and a bottle of green liquid that smelled like grass. She put it back inside and went looking for bread.

Jen stumbled into the kitchen first and inhaled. She blinked at the plate and a half of French toast. "What happened?"

"Nothing, why?" Selina flipped over the slices in the pan.

Jen grabbed a mug off the counter and headed to the coffee pot. "You only make French toast when you want to apologize but you can't since you never apologize for anything. So what did you do?"

"I didn't do anything." She added the finished pieces of bread to the second plate and gestured for Jen to take the first. What Bruce told her last night stayed between the two of them. "Another wrong theory about Selina Kyle, sorry."

Jen carried the plate and coffee to the eating end of the island. "If it's wrong, how come you made French toast for a month after you found me?"

"To fatten you up. You were skin and bones back then."

"Yeah right. They're for Bruce. What happened last night?"

"Nothing, but I'm about to take your French toast and give you oatmeal."

Jen raised her fork to stab as she hunched over the plate. "Wanna test how fast you are? Do ya?"

Bruce walked into the kitchen pushing up the long sleeves of his Polo shirt. "Morning." He stopped and his gaze moved from Jen's posture to Selina's cooking at the stove. "Is this breakfast or a war zone?"

"She threatened to give me oatmeal," Jen answered.

"Behave and I won't have to punish your stomach." Selina set the second full plate into Bruce's hands and turned back to the pan. "The coffee's hot."

"Thanks." But he headed to the fridge and filled a tall glass with the thick green juice before pouring a mug of coffee.

Jen blinked at it. "What the hell is that?"

"Trust me, if you have issues with oatmeal, you'll hate it." He drained the glass in one draught as if he didn't want it to linger on his tongue either.

Jen wrinkled her nose and cut into her French toast as Selina brought her plate to the island and sat across from Bruce. "Sleep well?" Selina asked.

"Well enough," he said.

"I think that mattress is the most comfortable I have ever been on." Jen set down her coffee. "So did you two fix it all last night?"

"We made some progress." Bruce sliced into his French toast.

"So I have another all day date with your movie collection."

"Sorry you're so bored, kiddo." Selina sipped her second mug of coffee.

"I'm no where near bored yet. Trust me." She shoveled the sweet fried bread into her mouth.

Selina glanced at Bruce while she ate. The camaraderie of yesterday had vanished behind his walled-off face. Now that he slept on it, he probably regretted admitting to her of all people what all he had admitted. Or he didn't want to say anything revealing in front of Jen. She couldn't blame him.

Jen finished her meal first. "I'll get the dishes." She set her plate and mug in the sink and started rummaging for the dish soap.

Bruce twisted his head to follow her. "You don't have--"

"Selina cooks, I clean. Because I can't cook and Selina can't clean."

"I'm making something with spinach for lunch." Selina drained her coffee mug.

Jen gagged with her tongue out until she caught Bruce watching her. "Can you cook, Bruce?"

"Not on a stove," he answered.

"So I guess we can't change things up then." She shut off the water faucet. "I'm getting my music. Put 'em in the sink when you're done."

He turned back to Selina with a slightly guilty expression. "This isn't part of what I hired you--"

"Don't worry about it." She picked up her dishes. "You won't be able to hire a staff until your financial mess is cleaned up and we still have to eat."

She turned from the sink and found him right behind her with his own dishes. "Thank you for breakfast. It was delicious." Her heart hammered at the sincerity in his hazel eyes. He knew, he overheard what Jen said and jumped to the same conclusion that Selina had something to apologize for. "Ready to get started?" He asked lightly as he held the kitchen door open for her.

"It's early to pay Daggett a house call, isn't it?"

"True, and I'm not exactly sure how to tackle him yet." He led the way down the hall to the study. "I wasn't getting anywhere with the program's code. Did you finish the list of everyone who bought my shares?"

She nodded. "All the names sound like charities, but none I've never heard of." She continued around the Louis XV sofa to the round table she had left the laptop on, but Bruce stopped at the door.

"Charities?"

"That means something?"

"When Earle took Wayne Enterprises public, I bought the majority of the shares through charities and trusts, so he didn't notice what I was doing."

"That's legal?" She asked as the laptop booted up.

"Yes, and it's how I started the Wayne Foundation. But who would've been paying that much attention to that history?" His eyebrows knitted together. "Daggett wasn't on the board a decade ago."

"I'm printing out the list." She glanced around the tastefully decorated study, but no familiar whir introduced itself.

"The printer's in Alfred office. I'll get it." He slipped out of the room before she could offer to go with him.

Just as well, because there was a hard knock on the front door. No peephole or camera mounted to see who it was; she guessed there was no need when you hired people to answer the door. She sighed and opened it after whoever on the other side knocked again.

The baby-faced cop from the shoot-out at the bar blinked at her. A dark suit with a bright blue shirt replaced his uniform and a detective's shield was clipped to his belt. His brown eyes narrowed. "Congressman Gilly pressed kidnapping charges, ma'am."

"Wayne!" Selina yelled over her shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since Alfred stressed that the Wayne Foundation runs on the profits of Wayne Enterprises, I figured that after Bruce assured he had control, he changed the names of those charities and trusts to the Wayne Foundation. 
> 
> Can't wait to hear what you think about this chapter. The plot is shaping up.


	6. Chapter Five

Bruce didn't linger in Alfred's warm office. Now was not the time to wallow in how much he missed his old friend. He snatched the paper off the printer and headed back to the study. Selina was right; none of these names were familiar.

"Wayne!" He frowned and followed her voice. Hadn't they gotten past the point of only addressing each other by last names? He stopped short in the Great Hall. Selina stood to the side with raised hands while Blake stood in the front door juggling a handful of papers to free his handcuffs. Selina's expression was locked down to betray nothing.

"Blake, what are you doing?" Bruce spotted the detective's shield clipped to his belt. That was a fast promotion.

The young man gestured at Selina and nearly lost his papers. "She kidnapped Congressman Gilly."

"I did not."

"He picked you out of a photo line-up."

Selina scowled and ticked off her list on her fingers. "He consented to leaving the party with me, he consented to staying at my place, and he consented to taking the pill that made him a little loopy. Kidnapping is taking by force and none of that is kidnapping."

Blake gave up on his handcuffs. "So he consented to the bullet hole in his leg?"

"Daggett's thugs shot him; take it up with them." She crossed her arms.

"Did you know she was here?" Bruce asked. If Blake had deduced it, Selina and Jen were not as safe as he thought.

Blake's glance bounced between Bruce and Selina. "No. What is she doing here?"

The paperwork must be the tunnel information Blake had alluded to yesterday when he dropped Bruce off in Old Town. "She's helping me get my money back, so you can't arrest her. This way." Bruce turned back to the study.

Selina shut the door and followed Bruce. "Have you looked at the list yet?"

"A glance, but I've never heard of these charities either."

"Charities?" Blake trailed after them.

"Everyone who bought Wayne Enterprises stock that was formerly Bruce Wayne's sounds like they're of the philanthropic bent, but apparently don't believe in advertising themselves." Selina smirked. "Wait for it. There it is, the cat-burglars-don't-donate-to-charities look."

"You donate to charities?" Blake leaned against the back of the sofa and didn't hide his skeptical expression.

"Tax deductions." She moved the magazines on the round table into a pile.

"You think they're a front?"

"Very likely," Bruce said. "So why did you come out here, Blake? To tell us the Commissioner's well enough to promote you to a detective?"

"He's doing a lot better, but I thought you'd want to know Daggett was found dead in a dumpster yesterday. Broken neck."

Selina's back was to Blake, so he missed how her face blanched at his announcement. Bruce reached past the chairs and grabbed her arm. She latched onto his forearm, dropped the magazines, and grabbed the round table. "Selina?" he asked softly.

She turned in the direction of his voice, but her fear-blown eyes didn't see him. "He said Bane would do that to us." Her fingers dug into his muscle.

He leveraged her onto the sofa. "Blake, get her something." He nodded at the bar hiding in the globe on the other side of the round table. The confused police officer headed there.

Selina let go of his arm and rubbed her face before looking at him as he sat next to her. "Daggett wasn't the brains." She swallowed, and some of her volume came back. "But he was in on it. He was calling the shots."

"Bane let him call the shots. Theatricality and deception are powerful weapons." Bruce took her ice-cold hand. "You need to tell us what you know. You're the only one who can."

Her face wrinkled as Blake brought a glass with a finger-span of amber liquid in it. She looked up at him. "Off the record."

Blake sighed. "Fine, off the record." She took the glass and drained it in one gulp. Blake sat gingerly on the closest chair.

She eased her fingers from Bruce's grasp and wrapped both hands around the cut crystal glass. "I went after the CleanSlate program, but Daggett Industries bought Rykin Data before I made a move. One corporation or another, no big deal for me. Only Daggett relocated the program and left a help wanted ad in its place."

"For you personally?" Bruce asked.

"For anyone desperate enough to go after the CleanSlate. And I was, so I answered it. Daggett offered it as payment for a series of jobs he wanted done." She looked at Bruce. "You want to know how I know he is... was a cheapskate?" He nodded, even though she didn't need a response to continue. "He used that damn, just-one-more-job routine on me, and the first four jobs were getting dirt on people. What you hire a private detective for."

"Who did you spy on?" Blake asked.

"Veronica Vreeland, Daniel Mockridge, Karl Rossum, and Douglas Fredericks. I don't know what Daggett did with the dirt I found on any of them, well except Fredericks, he didn't have any. That guy may be the first decent corporate tycoon I've ever observed."

"He is," Bruce said. "He has wanted to haul me out to the woodshed more than once since my father's not here to do it. And they were all on the Wayne Enterprises' Board of Directors."

"Mockridge committed suicide last year," Blake said gruffly. "First one I ever worked."

Selina flinched. "I never should've swallowed my pride for those jobs."

"Vreeland and Rossum retired from the Board eight months apart. Daggett must have ended up with their shares, because Lucius started contacting me about placating the Board right after."

"Another detail you stopped checking on?" Blake asked. Bruce nodded.

Selina glanced at both of them before continuing. "Daggett promised the CleanSlate after the fifth job--"

"My prints," Bruce said.

"Right, but he had been giving me the just-one-more-job dance for so long; I figured I better take out my own insurance."

"Congressman Gilly," Blake said.

"Was frightfully rude." She turned to Bruce again. "Maybe you should actually attend the parties you give to keep sleazy men from goosing the help."

"Gilly only got shot in the leg?" Bruce shook his head.

"Not my idea."

"Did you sleep with him?" Bruce saw Blake's eyes widened and knew he shouldn't have asked that. It was fine if she turned him down, but he hated the thought of that adulterous politician's hands all over her smooth skin.

Selina smirked. "Not that it's really any of your business, but I do have standards. I didn't even vote for him. Now he might remember quite the party, but that was all dirty talk and the pill he took."

"Trust me, he remembers something different." Blake rubbed his face. "Didn't make his wife happy either."

"Aw, he's still in love?"

"And pressing charges."

Selina shrugged. "Back to what I know, I brought Gilly and his cell phone to the drop after hours of stoned 'my wife doesn't understand me' ramblings. Daggett's flunky Stryver didn't pay me and was going to kill me until GCPD traced Gilly's phone. Good job with that." She gave Blake a thumbs-up.

Blake glared at her. "A firefight broke out; the Commissioner followed those thugs into the sewers, and got shot himself. But you don't know anything 'bout that?"

Selina frowned. "Why was he even there? Commissioner of Police is a desk job."

"Not for Gordon," Bruce and Blake said in unison.

"Okay, first, don't do that again; it's creepy. Second, I'm sorry he isn't as good at ducking as I am. I'm not in cahoots with them. They tried to kill me twice."

Blake snorted. "You gave them another chance?"

"Maybe you don't have a past you'd like to erase from existence, but I do, Detective. I broke into Daggett's penthouse the night before, same night as the Stock Market attack. I couldn't find the CleanSlate, so I questioned Daggett about it. He said it didn't exist. Then who I thought were Daggett's muscle showed up, but they were Bane's men." She shook her head. "They were ready to kill me and Daggett, but Batman interrupted things." She smiled wistfully at the floor while Bruce ignored Blake's stare. "We beat them back and took his escape route, an insane plane with no wings."

Her cheeks flushed as she looked down and rotated the glass in her hands. Bruce remembered the admiration in her tone when she said "powerful friend" that night. She wanted Batman? As if this situation wasn't complicated enough.

"I ditched him when we landed and found Bane's men waiting at home with Jen. The one in charge told me Batman would make contact and I better lead him into the tunnels or Bane would snap both our necks after the boys got tired of gang raping us." Her face hardened as she set the glass on the table. "I'm a bad girl, but I'm not a killer."

Bruce picked up the story for Blake's benefit. "Batman asked me to make a deal with Ms. Kyle: CleanSlate for leading him to Bane. She turned it down."

"They want him dead. Daggett exhibit A." Selina stood and took the glass back to the globe bar.

"I hired her to help me get my money back," Bruce finished. Blake nodded. "So what else do you know besides Daggett's dead?"

Blake opened his folder full of papers on the round table. "Someone's doing something in the tunnels under Gotham, hiring street kids to work. And since the Commissioner came out of those tunnels, he's convinced the guy in charge down there is Bane. But Daggett's name is all over the permits for underground work. The Commissioner wants the tunnels flushed out, but Deputy Commissioner Foley is dragging his feet. Doesn't believe in Bane."

"Those guys really need to pay him a house call," Selina muttered.

"Daggett hired Bane and his mercenaries to engineer a coup that secured mining operations for Daggett Industries in West Africa." Bruce spread out the papers. Blake had marked locations on a city map. Daggett Industries had work sites on all the islands. He picked up a permit. "Why can't they include pictures with this stuff?"

"I have a program that might help." Both men turned to Selina. "I'll go get it."

Blake waited until her shoes could no longer be heard down the hall. "Does she know?"

"No." Bruce left the permit on the round table and booted his laptop on the desk.

"How are you going to keep her from finding out?"

He ignored Blake's concern while he connected this laptop to the processors down in the cave. He copied Selina's list and started searches on the names.

Selina returned just as he was finishing and plugged a flash drive into the laptop she was using. "Hopefully, this does what it advertised. I haven't needed to visualize a text since I got it." She pulled the permit next to the laptop and typed.

Blake frowned. "Do you really think they told the city exactly what they're doing?"

"I know you've been a detective for all of five minutes, so you still need to learn this. Best hiding is in plain sight."

"Like a screaming woman at the location of a fire fight?"

She smirked. "A cop who can think; of course, Wayne found you."

"I found him."

"Sure, Detective whatever-your-name-is."

Bruce leaned back in the office chair. "I thought you two knew each other. Forgive me for skipping introductions. Detective John Blake, Selina Kyle."

Her laptop beeped before Selina responded with a clever bit of sarcasm. Her eyebrows knitted together as she stared at the screen. "What the hell is that?"

Blake moved behind her first, but shifted aside so Bruce could look over her shoulder too. The screen showed a wire frame outline of a circular room with two levels and a catwalk stretched across the open span. A tunnel branched off the upper level as well. "Why build that under Gotham?" Bruce mused out loud.

"And where are they building it at?" Blake added.

Selina consulted the permit sheet in her hand. "The tunnel opens in the subway tunnel under O'Brien Street in Midtown and extends for four blocks until it reaches that room." She picked up the laptop and moved to the sofa before typing again. "You two sure know how to crowd a girl."

The laptop beeped again and she stared up at Bruce. He frowned. "What is it?"

She set the laptop on the sofa and left the study. Once in the hall, she yelled "Jen!"

Bruce picked up the laptop and held it so Blake could see the screen. The wire frame model drawn from the permit was now colored red and resized to fit on a map of Gotham City. Dread squeezed Bruce's stomach. "It's under Wayne Enterprises." He set the laptop onto the table and moved after Selina.

Selina and Jen both stood at the doorway to the television lounge. Jen frowned at the taller woman. "Why do I have to pack? What happened?"

Selina finished dialing her cell phone and put it up to her ear. "Go pack now!"

Jen turned to Bruce and threw up her hands. "What happened? Who are you?" She pointed to Blake as he joined them.

Selina grabbed Jen's shoulder and turned her toward the stairs. "Go pack or I will throw you on a plane without any luggage!"

"I'm going!" Jen stomped up the stairs with a bewildered look at the men over her shoulder. Bruce shrugged and she continued upstairs.

Selina's attention focused on her phone. "Bonjour, Oswald. Oh, you're in Germany now? Eagle's Nest, sounds like they built it for you. Yes, I'm still in Gotham."

Blake leaned closer to Bruce. "Who is she talking to?"

"I don't know."

Selina frowned as she stepped away from the men. "Why didn't you tell me that? Yes, I did turn down your job offer, but it wasn't much of an offer." Her free hand massaged her forehead. "I need to cash in the favor you owe me. I need you to take in Jen and keep her safe."

Bruce didn't hear Oswald's reply, but Selina's back stiffened and her hand curled into a fist. "I'm going to pretend you didn't say that and you're going to pretend to be a decent human being! Or so help me, I'll ram your favorite umbrella up your ass!"

She trotted past Bruce and Blake. Bruce followed her back to the study with a new dread. She realized Bane was after him and she wasn't safe, so she was running with Jen. He didn't want her to leave. He wouldn't stop her, no matter how much he'll miss the energy she brought back to his life.

She leaned over the desk with a pen poised against a notepad. She glanced at them when they stopped at the sofa. He couldn't tell what she was thinking as her eyes locked with his. "One ticket, business class." She looked back down at the desk. "Don't squawk, Oswald, I'll pay the difference."

Jen dropped her duffle bag, barely missing Bruce's foot. "Who's she talking to?"

"An Oswald," Blake answered.

Selina finished writing down her note. "Yeah, you better treat her like family. Thank you."

"Selina, no! You swore you'd never cash that favor." Jen pouted.

She slid her phone into her pocket and looked at Bruce and Blake. "Who is giving us a ride to the airport?"

"I will." Bruce turned to Blake.

"I'll meet you at Wayne Enterprises." Blake scooped up his papers.

"I need to get my purse." Selina breezed out of the study. Blake shrugged and left behind her.

Jen turned to Bruce. "She only got one ticket, didn't she?"

"That's what she asked for."

Her blue eyes were solemn. "She's staying for you."

"I never asked her to."

"Of course not, hell, she won't even admit you're why, but she won't leave now. You'll keep her safe?"

"I promise." He almost offered her his hand to shake on it, but they settled for head nods instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I know I'm not crazy but my Google-fu is failing me and apparently I didn't save the picture when I saw it. Does anyone know where I can find a picture of the bar fight with Selina crouched behind the table and the unconscious Stryver draped over her widened out from what the movie focused on showing Gilly sitting at the bar behind her? I have seen this image because I remember telling myself "I was right, Selina didn't shoot him."


	7. Chapter Six

"We were supposed to bug out together." Jen's chin wobbled. They sat in the back of Bruce's Rolls while Bruce drove them to the airport. He kept his mouth shut no matter what was said. Good, because Selina wanted Jen safely away before she dealt with him.

Selina wrapped her arms around Jen and pulled her against her side. If this was their last time together, she wouldn't deny Jen physical comfort. But she wouldn't disguise the harsh truths. "They will use you against me. That's why you have to go." She pressed her cheek down on Jen's head.

"That's not a reason for you to stay." Jen wrapped both arms around Selina's ribs and squeezed as she burrowed against her.

"They will chase me down no matter where I go. I've got home field advantage in Gotham."

"Why Oswald? He always calls me Magpie."

Selina tucked Jen's frizzy blonde hair behind her ear. "His obsession does make Christmas shopping easier."

"Magpie."

"Felonious Feline. The fact that he won't pimp you is more important to me than what he calls you."

"I can handle--"

Selina turned Jen and put both hands on her thin shoulders. "No more turning tricks ever. You deserve a life you can be proud of."

"Don't throw yours away on something stupid." Jen hugged her again and didn't let go until Bruce parked the car. Before either woman could stop him, he took Jen's bag and followed them silently into the airport.

The confirmation number got Jen's non-stop business class ticket to Munich, Germany. Her duffel bag was small enough for carry-on luggage, so they walked her straight to the security checkpoint. Selina had never felt her throat so tight, but she still had things to explain to Jen. "You can learn a lot of Oswald and not just about birds." Jen chuckled as she looked at the floor. "Just don't put up with any of his crew's shit and that includes Oswald."

"Or you'll pounce on them boots first." Jen wrapped her arms around Selina for one last squeeze which Selina returned. "I'll be fine; you worry about you and Bruce." She let go and jogged to get into the security line.

Selina didn't move until Jen finally passed security, turned, and waved. She nodded, and Jen disappeared around the corner to the gates.

"You can go with her," Bruce said.

His soft voice had steel underneath it. How had she not noticed it before? But it helped her find her own composure. "I'm a professional and I don't leave my half of a job undone. Let's go, we don't want Blake storming Wayne Enterprises without us."

He fell into step beside her but waited until they were alone in the parking garage before continuing the conversation. "It isn't your job to fight Bane."

"Agreed." She slid into the passenger's seat, no partition window to stop this discussion. "But how can I help you get your money back when I don't know why it was taken in the first place?"

"You want me to psychoanalyze a group of mercenaries?" He drove out of the parking garage.

"No, I want you to tell me what you did to piss them off. First, they take your money, and then force you out of your family's company, and now they are digging under your building!"

"Maybe I represent everything they hate about Western civilization." His unconcerned tone did not match the glare he gave the traffic. His cell phone beeped at them and he took advantage of a red light to glance at it. "None of the charities on your list are older than four years."

"So your decadent, hedonistic lifestyle that you haven't been living for years is the reason why they copied your charity trick for buying stocks?"

"I didn't take hostages at the Stock Exchange when I did it."

"Maybe Bane's tired of the police ignoring him." Did he think she was as stupid as the bimbos to completely miss all the clues? "That still doesn't change how personal he's making it with you."

His hands curled tighter around the steering wheel. "Fine, Bane's after me. Why didn't you leave with your sister?"

Good thing Jen was out of reach after letting that slip. "Because Bane won't go after her if he gets me." He glanced at her with open disbelief. "I'm rooting for us to win, but I can't take a chance with her life. Unlike her, who hasn't learned to keep her mouth shut yet."

"Jen didn't tell me. You don't bicker like roommates or lovers. That left family." This glance from him was more concerned mixed with confirmation.

"What is this, a play for total disclosure? I tell mine; you'll tell yours?" She kept her breathing even and focused on his reaction instead of the question that shoved to upmost in her mind. Did she trust this man with her deepest secret? Damn, she knew she could trust him.

"You don't have to tell me anything." Offered because he did not want to admit to anything.

But nobody told Selina Kyle what to do. "I want you to know. You figured out I was in deep with the wrong people after all. You should know why." She twisted under the seatbelt to watch his reaction to her first confession in eighteen years. "Our parents died when I was twelve and Magdalene was five. They were only middle-class working stiffs, didn't even take out life insurance, so after they lost control of the car, we ended up in Willowwood Home for Children."

"It was closed because of abuse, right? Shortly after I left Gotham. You lived there?"

So the billionaire orphan actually gave a damn about other orphans in the city. "For two years, I protected Maggie from the pedophiles on staff and the monsters they were creating out of the other children. I'm sorry to say it took that long for me to have my bright idea to give the evidence to someone who could do something about it. I broke into the director's office, stole the evidence she sat on, and left it on a crusader's desk at Children Services."

"Your first break-in?"

"My first taste of how I could make things right. Their power that let them do evil to other people meant nothing if I could sneak around it and steal it away."

His glance had a smidge of respect in it. She hadn't expected that.

"Maggie was young enough to get adopted, so I..." she swallowed. "I left her behind while I lived for the thrill. Trained with the best I could fine, saved my money, and learned from my mistakes. It was fun, but I missed Maggie. I had to know she was fine with her real life, the one I would never have." Her fingernails dug into her palm, but her eyes never left his handsome, controlled face. "Seven years ago, I found her--in the sickest Internet porn you can imagine. She was fifteen doing stuff the pros wouldn't touch. She never got a real life either. The system threw her into foster care, one bad home abused her, and she fell in with a pedophile ring before she was ten."

His grimace of disgust matched the disgust in her soul that leaked out through her voice. "And she was popular no matter how old she got or how many drugs she took to block it all out. Still popular in the gutters of the Internet. Everything I saved went to shutting that ring down and getting their victims help. Maggie spent over a year in rehab and therapy. She changed her name to Jen Robinson to leave it all behind."

"And so no one would connect her to you."

"A side benefit, but she did it more for the fresh start. But it's never gone. You can't delete it all."

A stoplight let him turn to her in surprise. "You want the CleanSlate for Jen."

She smirked. "You thought I needed it? Please, I've only been arrested once, back when I was too young to know why it's better to work alone. Not a bad resume for when I switch gears to consulting about security instead of just breaking it."

"Congressman Gilly might have something to say about that."

"I'm sure I can sweet talk him into dropping the charges, and if not, I know someone scarier than his wife." He hadn't gotten all judgmental on her actions, which made the wound hurt less. "Your turn." She heard his teeth click together as he closed his mouth and tightened his jaw. As if that could deter her. "Shall I list how many times you've slipped up already?" She blinked innocently at him, but he didn't glance to see it.

"I haven't slipped up." He focused on turning the car onto another street.

"Who are you pretending to be? Bruce Wayne, eccentric billionaire. You aren't the entitled jackass from the tabloids, and you're more competent and intelligent than the business section reports. Plus you called all that a mask last night. Who are you really, Bruce?"

"Everyone in Gotham knows who I am."

"So you want me to claw off the mask for myself. I will."

"Curiosity and cats don't have a good track record."

"I prefer to concentrate on the satisfaction. And I'm a woman, which you well know."

They entered Wayne Enterprises' parking garage and parked before Bruce turned in his seat and looked at her. "The knowledge you're asking for has brought nothing but pain to everyone I have told." His hazel eyes darkened. "Don't ask me to endanger you on purpose."

She sighed. "I'll try not to scratch you when I rip off that mask. Blake's coming." She unlatched her seatbelt and climbed out of the Rolls.

"So you stayed," Blake said over the roof of the car. She rolled her eyes at him.

Bruce got out with his cell phone up to his ear. "Lucius, are you busy with Miranda? We need to have a meeting. I'm on my way up." He slipped the phone back into his jacket with a resigned expression. "This way."

He led them to a far corner of the garage and punched in a code to open the freight elevator. Blake frowned. "What's wrong with the front door?"

"I'd rather not have too many people know we're here." Bruce stared at the door rather than look at either of them. Blake glared at her.

"Do you think they have the building under surveillance?" she asked.

"Doubt it. Why bother coming in through the floor if you have an inside man? I just want to avoid the Board and reporters." The elevator stopped on one of the higher floors, and both Blake and Selina had to hurry after Bruce's long-legged pace. He led them through a couple of hallways until they ended up inside a conference room that looked over the city. Bruce strode through like he still owned the place and stopped in a connected office.

The older African-American man behind the desk rose to his feet. His brown eyes grew troubled as Selina shut the glass doors to the conference room. "I didn't realize 'we' included more than two."

"Selina Kyle, Detective John Blake, Lucius Fox. Daggett was murdered yesterday."

Fox nearly staggered and Selina glared at Bruce. There was no need to give the older man a heart attack. "Murdered? Who would want--?"

"His friends behind the Stock Exchange attack. And we found evidence that they're tunneling under this building."

Fox's back stiffened as he matched Bruce's glare. "No alarms have gone off."

Bruce's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Still need to check the basement."

"All of you?"

The half-smile vanished from Bruce's face. "Yes, all of us."

Blake's gaze shifted from Bruce to glare at Selina again. If he didn't stop, she'd do something to really earn that glare. She composed her poker face, no annoyance at Blake, no anticipation for what Fox and Bruce had.

Fox hit a switch under the ledge of his desk. The wall of bookshelves on the left pulled to one side and revealed an elevator door. It went down faster than the freight elevator had and below the parking garage if Selina's spatial sense hadn't deserted her. The elevator opened up and they stepped onto a warehouse floor. Equipment and storage boxes were scattered around the elevator shaft in an organized fashion.

A shape covered by a tarp caught Selina's eyes and she stepped away from the group for a closer look. It was slung like a Lamborghini but bulked like a tank, and everyone in Gotham City **knew** that vehicle even if this one was painted in Army-approved camo. Her core pulsed like it had when his flying machine swooped them between the buildings. _Powerful friend, my ass._

She remembered what he said last night. _Finding a way to help that no one would suspect._ She glanced over her shoulder at him, deep in conversation with Fox. _That you did, Bruce, that you certainly did._

* * *

Wayne and Fox talked in low tones about how Bane had found out about Applied Science, which Blake figured meant this stuff, the equipment Batman used. He looked over the room and saw Selina Kyle walking toward one of the tarp-covered Batmobiles. Her walk zigzagged instead of heading straight and she looked at the floor and tapped her heels against the concrete before changing direction. He didn't know what she was up to, but she was up to something. He strode after her.

She glanced up at his approach before hitting the floor with her high heel again. Now he saw her frown before she stepped to the right and did it again. "What are you doing?"

She stepped twice to the right. "Earning my paycheck." She repeated the tapping and then stepped forward. "The better question is what such a straight arrow cop is doing here?"

"Keeping an eye on you." That earned him another eye roll. The tapping caused her to veer from the camo-painted Batmobile. "You really expect me to believe someone with your record isn't out to steal him blind?"

"I'd put my twenty-five percent finder's fee in that category too, but he agreed to it." Her deep red lips smirked. "It's killing you that you can't take me in."

He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I can afford to wait, with your record--"

"A girl's gotta eat."

"And you have quite the appetite."

She spun on her heel and seized his tie before he could pull his hands out of his pockets. Her fingers ran over the St. Swithin medal tie pin. "You're a St. Swithin's boy, one of the lucky ones. That explains the black and white view of the world."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He pulled his tie from her hand.

"It's a grey world out there, Boy Wonder, and you need to learn the difference between bad and evil." She turned back to her tapping the floor.

Blake scowled. "Is that a line you gave him to trust you?" He jerked his head back at Wayne.

She glared at him. "I haven't given him or you any lines. I have rules and I follow them. So don't confuse me with whatever smash 'n grab crews you've dealt with before. I'm on a whole 'nother level." She turned from him, tapped her foot on the floor, knelt, and dropped her purse next to her knee.

He grimaced at himself. Wayne trusted her or had bought her loyalty, and Bane was the worse threat. She'd be more likely to slip up and admit to a charge if he wasn't hostile. He swallowed and dropped his cynicism for curiosity. "You really pay taxes?"

"The system is held together with duct tape, but it's all we've got and I believe in doing my part." She pulled a device out of her purse and attached what looked like a Bluetooth ear piece to her ear. A cord connected it to the electronic box she set on the floor. "Walk around a little." He took a few steps, but she frowned at his shoes. "Rubber soles? Never mind, go get a crowbar."

"Why?"

"I don't owe you any explanations." She twisted her head back to the elevator shaft. "Wayne! I need a crowbar!"

Wayne jerked out of his conversation with Fox and nodded. Fox pointed to a workbench and tool chest close to them. He dug into the tool chest, pulled out a pry bar, and started walking towards them. When he passed the elevator shaft, Selina held up her hand. "Hit the floor there."

He shrugged but complied. Selina frowned as she listened to her ear piece. "Okay, come forward three feet and hit it again."

Again Wayne complied while Fox followed him. Her frown deepened as she directed them closer with a straighter version of the walk she had taken. "Gentlemen, your floor has been compromised."

Fox gasped but Wayne looked back over the floor they had traversed. "It starts at the elevator shaft."

"All the way to here. I think the crack turns and we need to see what we're dealing with."

Blake glared at the polished floor. "How can you tell there's a crack?"

"Hollow concrete sounds different from solid. There is a line of holes that aren't supposed to be there."

"They certainly are not," Fox said.

"We need to see if anything's been added to those holes. Do you have a hammer drill with a three-eighth inch tungsten carbide masonry drill bit?"

"I have something along those lines." Fox trotted back to his tool chest. He returned with a cordless drill and a drill bit as long as his hand.

Bruce reached for it. "Maybe I should--"

"Give that here. You with power tools disturbs me." Selina snatched the drill out of Fox's hand.

He grinned at Wayne's consternation and handed her a pair of clear safety glasses. "I like your girlfriend, Mr. Wayne."

She set the drill bit against the floor. "He should be so lucky." Then she pulled the drill's trigger. She ran it slowly as she leaned her body weight to drive it into the concrete.

Blake frowned. She knew how to work the drill, but her file hadn't said anything about her blowing safes. She pressed her hand over the ear piece and slowed the drill more. Then she stopped and pulled the bit out of the floor. Bruce knelt next to her as she held the end of the bit between their faces. A grey putty filled the groves of the bit. He pulled some of it off and rolled it between his fingers. "C4."

"In my professional opinion, Bane's going to a lot of trouble for the five-finger discount." She looked more serious than her flippant tone would make you think she was.

Blake remembered his map with so many locations he had circled in red. "What the hell is he doing at the other Daggett construction sites?"

Wayne stood and offered Selina a hand. Her lips quirked as she grasped it. Once she was on her feet, he pulled out his cell phone and walked away from their group. Fox took a deep breath as he took the drill from Selina. "Who is this Bane?"

"A mercenary with an army who has moved to Gotham."

He stared at Selina. "Why?"

She pulled off the safety glasses and glared at Bruce. "That's what we'd all love to know." Bruce ignored them and spoke into the cell phone like he was in an un-dubbed kung fu movie.

Fox looked over the equipment with pinched eyes. "And I thought this would all be safe under my roof."

Wayne finished his foreign language call and began another one. "Ben Dawes, this is Bruce Wayne. I need a favor in the shape of three C-cans and trucks to haul them. Mr. Fox wants me to clear out some toys I was storing at Wayne Enterprises. Yes, Fox will be there supervising the packing. I'll text you where to deliver them to. Well, thank you, I appreciate the vote of confidence."

Fox shook his head. "There's no way we can empty this without Ms. Tate finding out."

Wayne slipped the phone back into his pocket. "I'll distract Miranda." He turned to Selina. "Help Lucius load all this on the trucks I have coming."

She looked around the warehouse-like room. "Good thing I wore pants today."

Blake shook his head when Wayne looked at him. "I have to check the other work sites Daggett Industries has all over the city."

"Okay, someone has to." He steered Blake to the elevator. Fox set the drill down and joined them. Selina packed her listening device back into her purse, but Wayne still dropped his voice. "When you're done, find Selina a place to stay in town. The Manor's not safe."

Fox keyed in the code that slid the elevator door open. "Of course."

The door slid shut before Blake voiced his objection. "Are you sure it's safe for Fox to be alone with her?"

"She doesn't kill, Blake. She could have saved her skin with Batman's and didn't. She's on our side." Wayne took out his phone and began typing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I'm running late this week. But I am trying to write three stories at once (yes, I know what a dumb idea this is but the brain is used to being stressed out), and when one of them doesn't want to cooperate, it delays everything else.


	8. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was typing and typing and typing, and the end of the handwritten chapter hadn't gotten any closer. So I decided to split this chapter into two, otherwise, I won't be posting at all this week. I just wish it hadn't fallen this way, because I still don't think this date accomplishes what I set out to do with it. And it doesn't help that I'm afraid of reader reactions when they see who is on this date.
> 
> Just stick with me, you'll love the next chapter, I swear!
> 
> {} mark dialogue in a foreign language left in English for my convenience.

Bruce headed up to the office he had used before he had stopped coming to the Wayne Enterprises building. The personal assistant's desk was empty, but the door to the inner office was ajar. He peeked inside.

Miranda Tate had decorated already; something he had never bothered with. Her brunette head bent over paperwork she focused on at the desk, so his view of the painting she had hung on the wall behind the desk was unimpeded. Smoke billowed from the castle's ramparts, and flames consumed a building behind the gate. Figures on the ground added to the smoke by firing muskets. Strange choice, but the warm hues matched the dark wooden furniture. He knocked on the open door.

She jerked up her head. "Bruce," she smiled. "What are you doing here?"

"I had to see my lawyers and thought you might like dinner." Now that he stepped further into the room he saw the painting was labeled "Prise de la Bastille" by Houël.

She cocked her head to the side. "But you are broke."

"I'll be sick of that phrase before this whole mess is cleaned up. I have enough money to take you out, if you're not too busy. And if we go to the Ocelot or Puccio's, they should remember I still own them."

Her smile warmed and lost its tease. "I'll call for my car."

He stepped back from the desk and looked out the window while she called the valet service. The restaurants he named were where a woman like Miranda expected to go, but it wouldn't be as much fun as he had with Selina and Jen last night. He squashed that thought fiercely; this was about keeping Gotham safe. How he felt never compared to that. Miranda was as beautiful as the other women he had brought to either location, like Alfred and Lucius told him repeatedly. And she possessed a familiar tenacity he needed to guard against. Blake deduced his secret, Selina now knew it too, and he wasn't about to share it with Miranda. She wouldn't understand.

Miranda hung up the desk phone and headed to the coat rack beside the door. He intercepted her and helped her into her coat. "Having dinner with me won't upset your friends staying with you?"

"My consultants had to leave town, a family emergency." They boarded the main elevator. Bane may have used the upset to plant a man inside Wayne Enterprises. They had no impediments to getting men inside the Stock Exchange after all. If they heard Selina had slipped out of their grasp, the safer she would be.

"I hope it's nothing too serious."

"I didn't pry." They reached the lobby and got caught in the first wave of office workers leaving for the day. The sedan that had picked Miranda up from Wayne Manor yesterday waited at the curb.

She waited for him to settle next to her on the back seat. "Do you have a preference for which restaurant?"

"Lady's choice."

"The Ocelot." She turned to Bruce as the driver pulled the car into traffic. "So should I expect these surprise visits?"

"If you expect them, they aren't very surprising."

"True, but I don't blame you for being cautious with your parents' legacy."

"I think I abdicated the right to second-guess anyone else's decisions concerning Wayne Enterprises three years ago."

Her grey eyes were soft. "Your apathy is cracking, Bruce."

Rachel chose Dent. That wasn't the only reason, but it lessened his guilt over Selina striding through his dreams like she owned them. And Gotham needed him again. "Apparently I needed a wake-up call."

"Most people do. What are you going to do with yours?"

"Get my shares back from who stole them first."

Their arrival at the restaurant interrupted Miranda's response. The Ocelot had changed wall colors to a deep Merlot in the years since his last visit, but the maître d' still wanted to give them the best table. "Something more private, please," Miranda requested. "Some Gotham egos need more time to adapt to changes."

They ended up tucked into a side table in the middle of the restaurant. "Thank you for insisting on this."

"You dislike being the center of attention."

He opened the menu. "I didn't realize how much my parents shielded me from it until after they were gone."

"Now it is a constant reminder of the loss. My mother protected me much the same way before she was taken from me. My father preferred to give me tools to protect myself before he also was taken." She opened her menu. "I do not like to dwell on the loss either, Bruce."

"I'm sorry you experienced it, Miranda." His social circle seemed to be filling with orphans lately. His cell phone buzzed for attention. "Excuse me," he said to Miranda as he answered the call from Captain Hamasaki Kaito. "Konnichiha, Hamasaki-san."

The man laughed and continued the conversation in Japanese. "{Still cannot speak freely, Wayne-san?}" He chuckled. "{I'm glad my life is simpler than yours.}"

"{I wish my life was simpler.}"

"{No, you don't. You would be wasted on a simple life. We picked up the cargo containers as you asked. Is there anything else you need? A free trip away from the United States? We set sail in two hours.}"

"{Thank you for the offer, but I am needed in Gotham. Give my regards to your family.}"

"{May your current troubles end swiftly. Good-bye.}"

"Sayonara." Bruce slipped the phone back into his jacket pocket and looked at Miranda. "Sorry about that."

"What was that about?"

"The captain of the _Takino Doukutsu Maru_ did a personal favor for me. That was just a status update before the ship leaves port."

"You speak Japanese."

Bruce smiled blandly. "Along with Mandarin, Cantonese, Korean, Russian, and a smattering of Hindi."

"Impressive." The waiter interrupted for their drink orders. Miranda asked a new question after he left. "Did your lawyers have good news for you?"

He grimaced. "Not really. It's in the hands of the SEC now."

"Waiting on the bureaucrats."

"I'm not good at waiting."

The waiter poured their water and wine and disappeared with their dinner orders. Miranda sipped the water. "Despite years of practice?" She quickly set down the glass. "Forgive me, that was rude."

"No, it was true. I've been accused of just waiting for things to go bad again rather than living my life." Alfred and Lucius both trusted Miranda, but Bruce felt the need to hide behind half-truths that he used with everyone. The half-truths Selina had seen through as soon as he uttered them. 

"You gave up on saving the world because the reactor has the potential to become a weapon."

"It was the last straw really. Gotham has come so far in my lifetime, I couldn't risk it."

"But the greatest reward only follows the greatest risk." The waiter set their salads on the table. "It is different when the risk affects those you care about, but a whole city ahead of yourself, Bruce?"

He shrugged and started on his salad.

She tried again after the waiter cleared the salad plates. "Is Gotham important to you because your parents cared about it? You focus on one city when there's a whole world in need."

"I'm only one man." He took one swallow of the wine--all he allowed himself. "What legacy did your parents leave you, Miranda?"

"That selflessness is no protection from the injustice of the world."

Neither was innocence or selfishness, he added as he thought about the story Selina had told him. She did see her abandonment of his sister as selfish and loathed it now. And his sacrifices hadn't saved Rachel.

She picked up her wine glass and saluted him with it. "Shall we ever escape the sins of our fathers?"

"I would categorize mine as regret rather than sin."

"Regret?"

"That I'll never really know if I made them proud."

Her face puckered as if he had slapped her with his words, but she wiped it away with another sip of wine. The waiter set down their entrees. "I did not realize we had so much in common, Bruce."

"Wish it was concerning a happier subject." Selina would have lobbed the conversation into his lap with a quip that made him smile. Hopefully, he could do the same for Miranda. "Maybe we should just stick to discussing work."

Her laughter was light. "I've been using the pretense of work to meet you for years now. Let's not revert."

He cut his chicken so not to look at her face. "It wasn't personal, Miranda. I was that way with everyone." Everyone but a certain cat burglar for whom locks and walls were an invitation.

"I know, but now everything has changed." She took a bite of her own entrée before speaking again. "What will you do now for Gotham?"

His bite gave him time to think. "There's not much I can do until I get my financial mess straightened out."

"But that can be done from any location. Gotham City has brought you nothing but pain, why do you stay?"

"Gotham needs people willing to fight for it. I made the mistake of thinking the fight was over." He swallowed some water. "Where would you start?"

She blinked at him in surprise. "I have always focused on clean energy. Save the environment and people's lives with one thing. But your reactor is unavailable, Gotham's climate precludes solar energy and Americans have not been favorable to wind turbines off the coast." She shrugged. "To focus on other ills, they have their roots in poverty and education, do they not?"

Selina would have more ideas than just that, but he couldn't fault Miranda for what she had never experienced. "That's what I focused the Wayne Foundation on. I suppose I can look there for a project needing a hands-on approach."

She smiled. "I forgot about the Wayne Foundation. It hasn't been affected by this mess?"

"Other than funding because of low profits from Wayne Enterprises, it is fine. I set it up to survive beyond me."

"Wise planning. You will let me know if there is any way I can help?"

"Of course."

They both passed on dessert, and Bruce settled the bill while Miranda got her coat and called for her car. The text alarm on his phone went off.  Kyle is in room 3312 of the Carlyle. Fox. He texted his thanks before meeting Miranda in the foyer of the building.

"Where to now?" She asked with a smile as she brushed her hair back.

He knew what that look meant. "I had planned on taking a cab back to the Manor."

"I can drop you off."

He cleared his throat. "There's no coffee or a nightcap at the Manor, Miranda."

"If that is what I wanted, I would be offering for you to come home with me. I need to see a friend in the Palisades tonight, so it is no bother to drop you off." She stepped one foot into the car before glancing over her shoulder at him. Her hair cascaded over her cheek and hid her red lips. "Not everything has an ulterior motive, Bruce."

Precious little didn't in his experience, but there was no point in being rude. The job was done and he needed to get back to Selina for damage control. Damage control that would go better if he brought her luggage with him. "Okay, thank you for the ride." He climbed into the car after her.

Silence filled the back seat as the car crossed over the bridge to the Palisades. Miranda twisted and faced him. "I know it is your home, but I don't like the idea of you staying there alone."

"It's all right. I'm used to no one making the drive to bother me."

"Nor did you want them to."

He glanced out the window. He preferred Selina's direct questions which she followed with a subject change or something soothing, like breakfast this morning. This hinting dance was the same reason he refused therapy as a child. "No, I didn't. I had my reasons, but they no longer apply."

She laid a hand on his arm. "You don't need to make a joke out of your pain with me. I know you're still working on trusting me and I would never push for something you were not ready for, but you do not have to be alone tonight." Her hand gripped harder. "You don't even need to stay in Gotham. I have a plane that can take us anywhere in the world."

Selina refused to run. He was sure he didn't deserve her loyalty, but he had to respect it. He set his hand on Miranda's. "I appreciate the concern, I really do. But Gotham needs me, so I won't do anything foolish."

"So you have found something in this adversity worth living for?" Her grey eyes widened.

"I have." But it was Selina's serious brown eyes he saw.

The car pulled up the drive to Wayne Manor. "Good." She withdrew her hand. "Just remember the offer stands if you need it."


	9. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mature rating achieved in this chapter.

Selina parked the last vehicle Fox called a Tumbler inside the C-can and pressed her head against the seat rest. She wanted this machine as badly as she wanted the CleanSlate. Maybe a smidge more, since she had proof this vehicle existed.

Bruce wouldn't let her have it though, not after sticking the found in the mansion clause to her payment. She huffed as she shut off the Tumbler and climbed out of the hatch. The insane bike he used the other night was more her style regardless. She closed the Tumbler's hatch.

Fox finished entering information into his tablet computer. "That's everything, Ms. Kyle."

She closed the doors of the C-can and fastened the lock onto it while another man about a decade younger than Fox joined them. "Got everything?"

"Yes, Mr. Dawes, and thank you for your assistance." Fox shook the man's hand. Selina walked down the eighteen-wheeler's ramp.

Dawes waved off the thanks. "I'd do anything for that boy after everything he did for Rachel and her mother. I wouldn't even have this business if it weren't for him. But I had hoped he was here. With all the news has been saying, it don't sound like Bruce."

Fox nodded. "It's fraud, Mr. Dawes. Bruce is busy trying to prove it." Selina joined the two men. "Ms. Kyle, this is Ben Dawes of Dawes Logistics. My new assistant, Ms. Kyle."

The mysterious Rachel had a connection to this man too. Selina smiled as Dawes shook her hand. "How do you do?"

"Just fine, nice to meet you. I better get this stuff on the road before rush hour makes a mess of things." He picked up the ramp and slid it into the trailer. "Take care of yourself, Mr. Fox. And keep an eye on Bruce."

"I always do." Fox sighed as the truck pulled out of the entrance ramp. "No matter how hard he makes it sometimes."

"We packed it all in record time. Even if nobody wants to see this stuff go." He nodded at her and punched the code to lock the entrance ramp into the parking garage. "But where is it going? Technically, he doesn't own Wayne Enterprises anymore."

Fox smiled as he walked her towards the elevator. "Technically, none of what we loaded actually exists as an asset of Wayne Enterprises. As for your question, Mr. Wayne has a habit of playing things close to the chest."

"I wouldn't have pegged him for being so devious." She snatched her purse off the workbench left in the empty space as they passed it. "It's probably a good thing Bruce is so talented at fooling people, since it looks like Bane has watched him for years." Fox's face was puzzled as they waited for the elevator. "All his shares of Wayne Enterprise stock were bought by charities."

"Just like how Bruce ran Bill Earle off." He let her into the elevator car first. "Do you think this Bane is capable of such a long game?"

Selina swallowed. "He was brutal in West Africa, and the Stock Exchange attack was his plan too. I'm afraid he's more prepared for this than we are."

"If anyone can catch up to beat a madman, it's Mr. Wayne."

Such optimism, but he was part of Bruce's inner circle. Maybe he had witnessed miracles to believe it. And hopefully she could fill in the blanks she had with his answers. "Good to know. So Ms. Tate is not in the club?"

The elevator door slid open in Fox's office. "No, Ms. Tate is not, but that's his business." The bookcase covered the elevator door again as Fox picked up his desk phone and asked for his car before looking up at her. "Now Mr. Wayne left instructions that I find you a place to stay in the city. Do you have a preference?"

"Not really and I didn't pack--"

"You're not to go back to the Manor. I'll get whatever you need for tonight. Let's see what's available at the Carlyle."

She stepped to the window while he called. Why the hell did a free stay at the Carlyle of all the hotels in Gotham make her feel so disappointed? Aside from feeling like a team until she got dumped here, so Bruce could distract Miranda Tate. He must be taking her back to the Manor. She took a deep breath. It didn't matter.

"That will be fine. Thank you." Fox hung up the phone. "Ready?"

She gave him a big smile. "As I'll ever be." She brushed her pants off. Hopefully, she wasn't too rumpled for the Carlyle. "So what do you think of Ms. Tate?"

"She has taken charge admirably, which is stability the stockholders need right now. She invested in Bruce's fusion reactor and joined the Board--let's see--about three years ago. She's a crusader on clean energy, and will probably talk the Board into turning the reactor on even though Bruce never wanted that."

They were alone in the main elevator, so Selina felt safe asking more questions. "Crusader? Trying to make the world a better place?"

Fox nodded. "That's probably what reminded Alfred of Rachel so much."

"Rachel?"

"Rachel Dawes, she was a childhood friend of Bruce's, the only one really. That was her uncle with the trucking company."

"And she was a crusader."

"She made her mark in the district attorney's office." His face fell from the pleasant memories. "Bruce hasn't been the same since she died."

At the hands of the Joker; Bruce had no reason to lie about that. She kept up cheerful small talk with Fox as they left Wayne Enterprises in his car while her insides iced over. Wayne was interested in her. He made that abundantly clear with his waggling eyebrows when he challenged her over his safe, how his gaze kept dropping to her lips during their dance, and damn it, dwelling on him did not make her feel better. But Miranda was the good girl everyone in his life approved of. So far Selina was the only one who didn't.

She accepted the key card to a Trillium Park Suite on the thirty-third floor with another plastered smile. It grew more authentic when Fox told her to charge any gift shop or boutique purchases to the room. "I'll get my money back from Mr. Wayne."

"This has been my most lucrative one day on a job ever. Thanks, Mr. Fox."

He shook her hand. "A pleasure, Ms. Kyle."

She bought a toothbrush, hairbrush, a pair of pants and a blouse before heading up to her hotel room. The hallway door opened into a smaller hallway. The door to the left was the white and beige bedroom with a king-sized bed and a grey armchair with matching ottoman. She laid her purchases on the bed before circling around to the marble bathroom. Two white terrycloth robes hung in the closet with matching slippers.

The suite's hallway ended in a living room with a picture window overlooking Trillium Park. Across from the window was a door into a kitchenette with a small table for two. A contemporary taupe couch waited for the guests to make themselves comfortable while enjoying the view. A Louis XV armchair upholstered in gold was turned toward the couch and coffee table, but it could be shifted to face the white desk behind it. Lovely, tasteful, cozy; no wonder so many people moved into the Carlyle and never moved out. And it was all hers to enjoy alone because Bruce was distracting Miranda Tate back at Wayne Manor.

Her teeth ground together. She was not dwelling on how Jen's stupid talk led to thinking totally inappropriate thoughts about a client. In the effort not to dwell, she stripped out of her not-designed-for-crawling-over-Batman's-gear pantsuit, donned the provided robe, sent her dirty clothes to the Carlyle's laundry services, ordered room service, and inhaled the meal before wondering if the hotel sold ice cream by the gallon or if she'd have to order it one sundae at a time.

Hadn't she told Jen it would be Miranda and Bruce? God, she hated being right, especially when Bruce deserved better than a bitch playing the dead childhood sweetheart card. She picked up the cordless handset. _I am a professional. A professional does not scarf ice cream because a client is being stupid. And that's all he is and all he'll ever be._

A knock on the hall door interrupted her chewing herself out. She set the phone down as she sauntered to the door. "Laundry service is faster than expected." She stood on tiptoes and put her eye to the peek hole. Bruce waited. Her jaw dropped open at the same time her heels hit the carpet runner over the hardwood floor. "What are you doing here? You're distracting Miranda." Mentally, she slapped her forehead. _Oh that was perfect first words for opening the door._

He pushed his way in with a duffle bag hanging from his right shoulder and pulling her suitcase behind him. His eyebrows knitted together. "The Manor's not safe for either of us. I thought you knew that." He dropped the bags inside the bedroom while she shut the door. He continued to the living room.

She found him staring out the picture window with his hands in his pockets and shoulders stiff. She flashed back to Daniel's office at the bank. This was the same way he hid when he couldn't leave after all the Rachel talk. Damn Miranda Tate and her game. She didn't have a quip or anything to pull him out of his headspace. "Are you hungry? Room service is quick here."

"I took Miranda to dinner to distract her." His voice was calm despite his coiled body.

Tension in a man has two reliable outlets, and she didn't want to smash up the pretty furniture in here, so option two. She strutted to the cabinet against the bedroom wall just in case he saw a reflection in the glass, then she hopped her ass onto the cabinet right next to the flat screen television and let the robe fall open over her crossed legs. She was inside his peripheral vision even if he hadn't reacted yet. Plus she could stare at his profile unless he decided to turn his back to her again. She doubted he would with her legs on display like this. "Is this you pretending to have had a lousy time because I got stuck with the hard work?"

"I'm not pretending at anything."

"So dinner is followed by brooding. That's good to know."

He glanced at her, and she flexed her leg. "I'm not brooding; I'm waiting."

"For what?" She frowned. "Blake called you with more bad news? Bane took something else hostage?" His puzzled eyebrows were back. "None of the above?" she asked.

"You're not yelling. You're not calling me crazy or suicidal for putting on the mask. And you asked me point blank and I didn't tell you." His hands curled into fists in his pockets.

Selina smirked and crossed her legs so the left one was on top. "Given how the police chased you down, I'm a little confused why you trusted Blake before me, but you not saying 'I'm Batman' has been the only thing that made sense today."

The tension ebbed out of his frame, and she wondered about that reaction. Was Fox the only one who had ever supported Batman? "I didn't tell Blake; he figured it out," he said as he looked out the window again. "Not that I believe his bullshit about how he figured it out, but there hasn't been time to get the truth out of him."

"Want me to interrogate him?"

"No, I like the kid and you'll break him."

Her smirk slid into a full smile. "I promise I won't break him, but I will scratch him up if he keeps being stupid to me."

"That's acceptable." He glanced at her again. She squeezed her legs together. "Will it upset you to talk about Miranda?"

She sighed. "Your choice in confidants is limited, so I'll try to keep my snark to myself. What's wrong? Did she shoot you down worse than I did last night?"

He turned back to the window. "I turned her down."

"Can you afford to do that since she's saving your company?"

"I did it nicely."

She swallowed back the question of how he defined nicely because it didn't matter. "Okay, not that you have anything to worry about. She's smart and still after something from you."

And that stiffened him up again, but he looked at her while waiting for a body blow. "What do you mean?"

"If all she wanted was Wayne Enterprises, she would have given a date the brush off."

"Because it's so inconceivable that she might enjoy my company?"

"You said it, not me. Then again, you did go to her save the planet by making materialistic asses of ourselves party. Maybe you want something from her."

He crossed his arms. "I followed you to that party. And you went to get into Gladstone's pants."

"I went to get into Gladstone's safe, and you know why."

"Diamonds are traveling money," he said and she nodded. "So really Miranda was the only one there without an agenda."

She snorted. "Everyone has an agenda. Hers just happened to be on display that night. Hope the Planeteers appreciated it."

"Do you not like Miranda Tate, Selina?" His hands went back into his pockets as he smirked.

"When did approving your girlfriends get added to my job description?"

"She's not my girlfriend."

Now she crossed her arms. "She wants to be," she muttered and didn't look at him.

"I feel like I had dinner with a ghost tonight." He turned back to the window.

"A ghost?" When he didn't turn back to her, she shifted her legs again rather than close the curtains in front of his nose. "What did she say?"

"Nothing I haven't heard before. Bruce Wayne can do so much good for Gotham, the world, so get to it."

"And Rachel brought it up the most."

Before she blinked, he whirled and took one step closer to her. His fists stopped at his sides as intensity from him pushed her back toward the wall. "What do you know about Rachel?!"

Now she wanted to kick Miranda's ass. "How 'bout you save that righteous indignation for the woman copying your dead sweetheart! Fox and I talked while we packed up your toys, and he said Miranda reminded people of Rachel. He also said you haven't been the same since Rachel died." His narrowed eyes widened with pain. She didn't want to hurt him, but she wouldn't make Fox a target either. "Now before you get all pissy with Fox, it's not that big of a secret. I ran across society gossip speculating the same thing in my research, but I didn't use it against you."

He matched her glare with one of his own. "No, you just beat up a cripple and dropped me on my ass."

"You need someone around to drop you on your ass."

Bruce's hands uncurled as he blinked. His stare softened, but she dropped her gaze to the floor. "Why would anyone want to pretend to be Rachel?" The angry bite lifted from his voice.

How in hell did she end up the one to explain this to him? But Batman wasn't subtle when interrogating criminals and these grifting games were all about subtle. She shifted on the cabinet before looking at him. He leaned against the wall next to the picture window and watched her. She took a deep breath. "Let's examine your dating record: airhead supermodels, actresses, and debutantes; sometimes all at once. That tapers off to one at a time for a year after Rachel died until you quit dating after the first Harvey Dent Day celebration." His gaze dropped to the floor. Selina sighed, but continued. "Miranda has brains, read between the lines, decided you prefer idealistic crusaders, and adjusted her behaviors to give you that."

"That makes sense. She has been trying to meet with me since she invested in the reactor."

"Way to test her persistence."

"Also explains why she offered to run away from Gotham with me."

Her mouth fell open again. "And why on Earth didn't you take her up on it? Bane wants to kill you!"

He looked at her with the hopeful and resolute expression he had last night. "I can't let him hurt the innocent of Gotham." He smirked, "And you didn't leave."

"I guess we're both a couple of suckers." She hugged herself and looked away from his handsome face.

"That's how you feel?" he asked.

His soft voice pulled up all the pity she had shoved down. She squeezed her eyes shut against _Miranda is the one he wants; I'm just useful_. "I've spent most of the afternoon and this evening feeling like a sucker." Her professionalism hammered the pity back down and she inhaled. "I must be one, because with anyone else I would have beat answers out of during the car ride from the airport."

"What does it make me that I kept thinking of you the entire time I was with Miranda?" He had left the wall and stood next to her legs, and she hadn't heard him move at all.

Her mouth fell open for the third time. She wished Bruce would stop making her react like that. "I'm not an idealistic crusader."

"You're the one who ripped off my masks and isn't frightened by what you found. Rachel never understood. After she was gone, I didn't think anyone would. And then you--"

"Made off with your pearls," she said with a sigh.

He set his left hand flat on the cabinet next to her hip. His hazel eyes bored into hers. "Woke me up." His right hand cupped her jaw. "Made me chase you." He leaned in or pulled her closer somehow. "Made me want you." His lips pressed over hers.

She clutched the lapels of his jacket and tugged him closer. His fingers tangled in her brown hair when he gripped the back of her head. Her tongue darted into his mouth as soon as his lips parted. Tension seized his muscles again, but she knew he would let her battle it away now. He panted when he pulled back with her lipstick smeared on his lips.

"That rule?" She curled a leg around his waist as she grabbed his shoulders.

He stepped between her knees. "The one we're breaking?" His left hand found her thigh under the terrycloth.

"It was more of a guideline, to give Jen a good example."

"I'm glad she's safely away then." He tipped her head back and dropped his lips on her neck.

An involuntary gasp rose with the heat on her skin as his lips trailed down her neck. She wrapped her other leg around his waist and hooked her ankles together. His hand under the robe stroked her thigh. Her hands ran over his shoulder blades, up his neck, and into his hair. Her fist curled in his thick hair when his tongue ran along her clavicle.

She wanted to press against his skin, but he was too dressed. His hand ran down her back and left shivers in its wake. She let go of his hair and unknotted his tie.

Bruce pressed a kiss on the lace border of her bra before straightening. "If we're going too fast--"

The chuckle erupted before she could stop it. "There's a mad man with an army who wants to kill both of us. Lover, you aren't moving fast enough."

He blinked at her before he shucked off his dark gray jacket with a grin. She grinned back, seized his head, and pulled him back for a kiss. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed her to his chest. She kissed up his jaw to his ear while she unbuttoned the first button on his shirt.

"Impatient," he muttered into her hair.

She tightened her legs and rubbed herself against the bulge in his pants. "If you had stripped off the armor, you could have had me two nights ago." She bit his ear and unfastened the next button.

His hands lifted her ass off the cabinet. "I have dreamed about you every night since you flipped out of my window."

"Naked, sweaty, naughty dreams?" She wrapped her arms around his neck.

He nuzzled hers as he carried her down the hall. "Do you want me to talk dirty to you? I'm out of practice." He returned the bite on her ear.

She slid her hands over the cotton of his shirt before unbuttoning the next button. "Rather you just play dirty with me." Her hand tucked into his shirt and stroked the dusting of chest hair she found. Her other hand pushed the fourth button loose.

Her back pressed up against the wall inside the bedroom. His larger hands caught both her wrists and pulled her arms taunt over her head. His hips ground against hers. Her legs sprang apart, but her feet only brushed against the floor. "Play dirty like this?" His eyes glittered.

"It's a start." She pressed her breasts against his chest.

He spun her around to face the wall. The robe slithered off her shoulders and arms. His left hand flattened against her stomach while his right teased her hard nipple through her bra. She dropped her head back with a moan and he caught it with his shoulder. "Better?" His cheek grazed hers.

"Much." She put her hands on top of his. She slid one down her stomach. His fingers traced the band of her boy shorts while he squeezed her breast. She inhaled sharply, but her fingers found the buttons on his cuffs. He kissed her neck and shoulder. She ground her ass against his erection.

He growled against her skin. "And here I thought you were just interested in my wallet."

"Please. Your wallet is the most boring thing about you."

"Well, that's a first."

She reached up, ran her fingers into the hair on the back of his head, and pushed his stalled hand toward her mons pubis. "Let's find some more firsts."

"I want to taste you first." His lips brushed against her bra strap. "May we start there?" He took her hand and rubbed his thumb against her palm. His other thumb grazed her nipple.

Her grip on his hair tightened. "So polite. Yes, Bruce, yes."

His kisses moved across her shoulder to the center of her back, and she let go of his hair. His fingers danced along her skin as they moved behind her. His lips followed the curve of her spine as he unfastened her bra and slid the straps off her shoulders.

Selina shimmied her arms and dropped the bra on the floor. Bruce knelt behind her. Each kiss he laid on her skin sent a pulse through her. He wrapped an arm around her torso and turned her slowly. His lips skimmed her side as she rotated. She brushed her fingertips over his firm bicep.

Once she faced him, he pulled her boy shorts down and kissed her hip. He looked up. The clench of her insides started at her throat and continued down her body. She combed his hair back. Those intense hazel eyes never broke away as he slid the panties off her other hip, and then ran his hand over her bare ass and down her leg.

She stepped out of them and he guided her stance wider. "You are beautiful, Selina." He caressed her inner thighs before kissing her mound. One long finger slid between her wet lips and brushed her pulsing clit.

Her knees buckled as she moaned. His arms wrapped around her before she fell against the wall. He spun them around and her back landed on the mattress. His lips fell on hers. She gasped for air once his assault moved south. His kisses reached her stomach before she remembered to spread her legs as far as she could.

Silver tongued devil proved he could use that tongue for more than just obscuration. She grabbed the comforter with both hands and he pinned her hips in place. She wasn't a frigid society bitch, so she moaned her appreciation for his technique. Her voice squealed as an orgasm rolled through her.

Bruce settled beside her and brushed her hair away from her face. "I think you enjoyed that," he said with a smug smirk on his face.

"Not as much as you'll enjoy this." In one spring, she pushed him on his back, straddled his hips, and ripped open his partially button shirt. He let her have the move without a struggle, though after she gasped, he looked like he regretted not stopping her.

She should have expected the scars. Hell, her careful planning to avoid confrontations had left her with a few nicks; a hazard of the masked lifestyle. But Bruce's muscles rippled under a mass of scar lines.

The widest patch was on his right side starting at his lowest rib. It looked like a grazing bullet had almost bisected an older gash, and it had been sewn together by a freshman home economics student. About half of the other scars scratched across his torso looked like they were closed by the same student while the rest were closed by a neater hand.

"Everything you've paid to Gotham." She ran her hands over his chest.

Resignation replaced his smugness. "The worst blows never left a mark."

His parents, Rachel, Batman had saved Harvey Dent before murdering him (and she would empty what was left of her savings betting that only the first half of that was true); she refused to be another blow he expected. She bent over and kissed him.

He pushed up on his arms so not to unlatch their lips as she sat back. She hummed into his mouth and peeled his shirt off his shoulders and arms. Scars marred the feel of his shoulder blades, but she didn't hesitate caressing them.

Once his arms were free of the sleeves, he wrapped them around her. They rolled until she was on her back again. Their lips parted when he propped himself over her. "You are out of practice if you think you can leave your pants on," she said huskily.

"I'm not proud of the brace." He stood up and shucked the pants and his boxers off quickly. She saw two black bands above and below his left knee wrapped tight enough to dig into his flesh, but there was only one metal hinge on the outside of his leg and thin to go under his armor. Bruce sighed, "I'm a cripple without it."

"You are far from cripple and we both know it." She held out her hand. "Now come to bed."

He moved over her. She ran her hand up his arm, pulled him closer, and wrapped her legs around him. He slid into her with a relieved moan. She rocked her hips to give a hint, but he caressed her cheek instead. "Do you have any idea how special you are?"

"I know I'm the woman who'll be on top again if you don't move."

He grinned so wide his eyes nearly shut before he slid against her. She groaned as she matched his rhythm and she came apart under his touch again. He followed soon after with a cry that might have been her name before he collapsed on top of her. He rolled off with a muttered apology.

Selina grabbed the comforter and rolled into his arms. He draped the blanket over them before kissing her softly. "I'm glad I chased after you."

"I take back what I said about you not being fun." She returned his kiss and let his beating heart lull her to sleep.

The sleep only lasted about an hour and a half before she woke up alone in the bed. "Bruce?" The suite was empty save for her. That knowledge collided with dread building in her gut. "Bruce?" She knew he was doing something stupid.

A sheet of paper folded into a tent was under the nightstand lamp she turned on. Addressed to her, how thoughtful.

> I know this will piss you off, but I promised Jen I would keep you safe. And I can't stand the thought of anything happening to you. If it is the last thing I do, Gotham will be safe for you in the morning. Take what you need out of my wallet.
> 
> Yours, Bruce

"You idiotic, masochistic bastard!" She flung the note back on the nightstand and the comforter off. "Weren't you at the same damn fight I was?" She stomped across the hardwood floor to her suitcase. "We both had to run, you pig-headed, altruistic martyr!"

She lifted out the false bottom hiding her suit and her boots. Maybe he took back-up. The dread tied a new knot. Who was there for him to take? The police, except for Blake, wanted Batman's head. He didn't want to endanger her, so he absolutely wasn't calling Blake.

She yanked on a clean pair of panties. "You self-sacrificial moron, they shot the Police Commissioner." She pulled her bra straps into place. "You think they won't shoot you?" She stepped into her catsuit and tugged the material up her legs. "Hard-headed cretin." She found her belt and goggles, and set them on the dresser before sitting on the bed. "I told you Bane wants to kill you!" She zipped up the first boot. "Repeatedly told you, you smug bat bastard." She zipped up the second boot. "You obstinate do-gooder."

After her catsuit was zipped closed, she ran a brush through her hair, and ignored the worry the mirror put in her eyes as she applied her crimson lipstick. She slid the room key card into a belt pouch, tightened her mask around her face, and sauntered out the suite door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All you quiet lurkers, I expect to hear something from you with this chapter. And the first thing should be a big thank you to abelard for her discussion on the last chapter that encouraged me to post this Tuesday night instead of Wednesday.


	10. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And we've reached the realistic violence portion of the warnings in this chapter.

Batman marched down the subway tunnel from the O'Brien Street station. The door into the tunnels below was propped open and the stairs lit by halogen lights on a portable stand. The boy guarding the steps never had a chance to yell when the cape swirled around him.

Two soldiers accosted him further down the twisting path and one opened fire with his automatic rifle. Batman evaded his fire and pounced on him. The man's grip slackened on the rifle after he took a punch to the head. Batman tackled his running partner. The cement knocked out the soldier.

One more bend and the catwalk Selina had found in the building permits was on the left. He walked out onto it confidently, and metal clanged behind him. Industrial steel grating blocked that exit.

Heavy boots vibrated the bridge over rushing water below. Batman turned to face his opponent. The halogen lights above spot-lit the tall, bald man wearing combat fatigues exposing his muscular arms and a mask of metal tubes that covered his mouth and nose. His meaty hands held the straps of his primitive flak vest. Batman growled out the name that the newscasters hadn't tied to the Stock Market Attack yet. "Bane."

"Let's not stand on ceremony here," Bane's distorted voice paused, "Mr. Wayne."

That confirmed what he suspected from how they focused their earlier attacks on Bruce Wayne. They stepped toward each other as Bane's army lined the balcony around the arena. Batman's fists struck Bane's torso first, forcing Bane to step back. Batman struck again and again, but Bane absorbed the blows to his chest and jaw.

Bane seized Batman's left fist and stopped the punch. "Peace has cost you your strength." Batman didn't have a chance to land his right fist before it was caught. "Victory has defeated you." Bane forced the knuckles of Batman's glove against his teeth and kicked him.

Batman regained his footing and blocked the next punches Bane threw. He followed with a head butt cowl to skull, but it didn't faze Bane even as the large man stepped backwards. He remembered Gordon reduced to begging for help on a hospital bed. Batman slugged his jaw and growled with the one, two punches.

Bane absorbed the blows, and then countered with a shove that knocked Batman against the catwalk's railing. He grabbed the railing on the other side and kicked Batman's chest. The force of it sent Batman somersaulting over the railing. He turned in the air and unfurled his cape. It slowed his fall onto the grating-covered concrete floor. Bane grabbed a dangling chain and climbed down only using his arms. He seized Batman before the vigilante stood and swung his armored back into a metal column.

Batman broke free of Bane's hold and they traded blows again. Batman grunted with each one he threw and grunted when Bane's punches landed. Bane did not make a sound other than his breathing, and that was lost under the foaming water. The waterfall sprayed droplets into the air. They caught on his armor and rivulets ran around the Kevlar plates.

Bane broke free of the hold Batman had on his neck. His punch drove Batman to the ground. Batman rolled onto his hands and knees, the soaked cape not moving with him, and Bane's boot caught him in the stomach.

He felt that through the armor. He pulled himself up a set of metal steps, took his stance on another bridge over the channeled water, and growled at Bane who strolled up the same steps.

Bane effortlessly ducked the punch Batman swung and buried an uppercut right where his boot had kicked. Batman doubled-over. Bane's next slam straightened Batman up again, and then he kicked Batman off the bridge.

Batman landed on the metal grating nearly a yard away from the steps. Alfred was wrong; he didn't want to fail. But he had never faced an opponent as relentless as Bane. He hurled his flashbangs at Bane.

The mercenary remained still as the mini-explosions went off around him. Batman used the time to climb to his feet. "Theatricality and deception are powerful agents to the uninitiated." Bane sounded amused as he came down the steps. "But we are initiated, aren't we, Bruce? Members of the League of Shadows."

Batman surged forward.

Bane ducked the blow, shifted up, and grabbed Batman's throat. He hauled all of Batman's weight into the air with one hand. The armor held against the grip. "And you betrayed us," Bane continued as he walked forward, carrying Batman.

"Us?" Batman rasped. "You were excommunicated by a gang of psychopaths." He pulled at Bane's fingers.

Bane's fist pounded into Batman's side harder than his earlier punches. He threw the armored vigilante against the concrete retaining wall holding the water. "I am the League of Shadows. I am here to fulfill Ra's al Ghul's destiny." He extended his arms with his declaration.

_The destruction of Gotham, never._ Batman charged forward with a yell. He knocked Bane onto his back and pounded.

Bane grabbed Batman's head and head butted the cowl before tossing him aside. "You fight like a younger man," Bane said as they both climbed to their feet. "Nothing held back. Admirable but mistaken."

Batman hit the EMP emitter on his belt. The arena's lights blinked off.

Bane let out a sarcastic sound of appreciation. "You think darkness is your ally." Batman silently circled his opponent while Bane continued speaking. "You merely adopted the dark. I was born in it," Bane announced as he slowly circled, "molded by it. I didn't see the light until I was already a man, and by then it was nothing to me but **blinding**!" Bane snarled the last word as he seized Batman's throat again.

Bane dashed Batman's head down against the concrete at the same moment one of his men fixed the lights. "The shadows betray you because they belong to me." Bare knuckles landed against the cowl again and again until it cracked along the forehead and temple.

Bane stood and strolled to the center of the arena again. "I will show you where I have made my home whilst preparing to bring justice." Batman blinked away the blood and water as he looked up at the foundations of the Wayne Enterprises building. One of Bane's men tossed Bane a detonator that he easily caught as he looked down at Batman. "Then I will break you," he said as he pressed the button.

The primer cord sparked as the ignition ran up the columns and into the concrete above. A muffled explosion was followed by louder blocks of raining concrete. "Your precious armory gratefully accepted," Bane said as his men climbed through the hole into Applied Sciences. "We will need it."

Batman panted where he lay, marshaling his strength. This surprise was all he had left. He had to make it count.

"There's nothing up here but Daggett's thief!"

"What!" Bane bellowed. "Bring her to me!"

_Selina must have followed me. And Bane will kill her._ Batman pushed himself off the concrete slope. The men above and the men below aimed their rifles at the masked woman sliding down a rope. He stepped toward Bane.

"Ah yes!" Glee filled Bane's filtered voice as he turned. "I was wondering what would break first." He tossed the detonator aside.

Batman swung his arm back for punching momentum. Bane easily dodged the swing and followed with another uppercut to Batman's stomach that forced him to double over. A blow to the back of his head sent him to grating floor again. He pushed himself up.

"Your spirit?" Bane grabbed Batman's shoulder and thigh and lifted Batman above his head. Batman flailed and kicked. "Or your body?" Bane threw him down and his lower back connected first. The armor cracked, pain flared along his entire spine, and he was face down on the grating again.

"No!" Selina screamed. He wanted to scream at her to run, but not even his mouth cooperated with him.

"Where is the armory?" Bane demanded.

"I don't know! Nobody does; he arranged everything. And you killed him." Selina's voice hardened.

Heavy footsteps vibrated closer. Most of the cowl peeled free from his head. "He's not dead yet. Bring them both."

Four hands lifted his body off the ground by his arms. The surge of pain through his spine brought darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a pretty rotten weekend last week, and getting paid tomorrow doesn't make it better. So if you're still reading and don't hate me for what happened in this chapter, I'd really appreciate feedback. :D Heck, I'd appreciate it even if you do hate me for what happened.


	11. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is where the non-consensual warning comes into play. Possible triggers.

A pair of gun barrels shoved against her back forced Selina to follow Bane as their group headed behind one of the waterfalls. They had stretched waterproof tarps from the wall to cover half of the walkway behind the cascading water. They protected television screens, a table full of electronic equipment, a military cot set up against storage crates, and a small campfire on the floor. Bane paused and looked at the screens while the rest of his men fanned out and blocked the path out of the command center.

He turned to one of his mercenaries--a swarthy man with a beaked nose. "Strip the traitor of that useless armor and give me an assessment of his condition." Before he nodded his response, Bane turned to another pair of soldiers. "You two move Dr. Pavel." Bane chuckled and Selina suppressed a shudder. "Take him to Daggett's penthouse. Let the good Doctor have a taste of fine American living while he can."

That pair scurried off to do his bidding and Bane turned to the screens again. Selina wanted to see what they were doing to Bruce now, but she didn't dare take her eyes off Bane. She heard the thuds of the armor hitting the floor and the men murmuring behind her.

"Barsad," he rumbled as he turned back to the people. Selina recognized the man who stepped forward as the same one who led the team to her apartment. "Did you not give this thieving whore my instructions?" His eyes glittered at they roved over her.

"I did, Bane."

"Yet, she sided with the traitor." Bane stepped closer to her and Barsad moved with him.

Selina hated not knowing why Bane kept calling Bruce a traitor as much as she hated how all the mercenaries circled her. She gritted her teeth.

"What did he promise you? Safety? Money? A scratch behind the ears for being a good kitty cat?" Bane tilted his head waiting for her reaction. Selina stared at him. "You told her what the consequences of defying us are?"

"I did, Bane," Barsad answered.

She waited for his hand to wrap around her throat as he stepped closer. His finger stroked her jaw instead. "You will make him tell us what he has done with his armory."

Big nose joined their smaller group. "The traitor has a concussion, but he is responding. I need to take an X-ray of his back before recommending any treatment so he can be questioned."

Selina winced. More torture on top of the beating Bane had already given Bruce?

Bane nodded. "Proceed with the X-ray, and then dress him as a prisoner and put him in Dr. Pavel's cage."

Big nose nodded and strode away. Selina risked looking. Bruce laid on a backboard carried by two soldiers. Big nose joined them and the procession left the command center through a tunnel leading away from the arena.

"You will see him again," Bane said. He gestured to the men behind her and they grabbed her arms. They pulled her back to the wider section of the walkway and sat her down in a chair untied, but the aim of their automatic rifles never wavered. Bane turned to a table and bulletin board covered in maps and diagrams, and spoke in a low voice to the men who joined him. At least all her and Fox's packing upset their plans; she wished it had upset them more.

Big nose finally returned and she focused her meandering attention on him. "The traitor's L3 vertebra is dislocated."

"Only dislocated?" Selina felt sick at the disappointment in Bane's rumble.

"His legs are paralyzed. I propose offering him a dose of bupivacaine. That should knock the pain low enough for you to get coherent answers from him."

"Very well. Give him the dose and I'll be there shortly." Bane crossed the command center in a few steps and pointed to Selina. "Strip to your underwear, provided you are wearing any." Selina opened her mouth to tell him to go to hell, but he chopped his hand through the air. "Resist and my men will strip you to the skin and you won't approve of where their hands go."

She bent over and unzipped her boots. The soldier who unhooked her belt upstairs in Applied Sciences stepped forward with it hung over his shoulder and seized her goggles as she took them off. "You break 'em, you buy 'em," she snapped at him. The concrete floor was ice cold through her socks as she shrugged out of her catsuit without looking at any of the silent onlookers. She dropped it on her chair and waited.

"Gag her and hang her where the traitor will see her." Bane turned back to his maps.

Barsad and another soldier grabbed her arms and pulled her down the same tunnel they took Bruce. Her feet scrambled to run with them, but the rough concrete tugged her socks. The tunnel ended in a cage made of chain-link fencing. The door was barred metal with the fencing fastened to it, but her escorts didn't give her time to examine it.

They slammed her against the chain-link wall next to a military cot. Big nose sat on the edge and leaned over Bruce. They had dressed him in a grey T-shirt and blue cotton drawstring pants that both looked like they had seen better days. Barsad and his friend forced her arms above her head and out so her shoulders stretched and then up some more so she stood on her tiptoes. He tied her wrists to the fencing with zip ties before forcing a knotted handkerchief between her teeth.

Her stomach dropped to her feet. Bane was giving Bruce a physical break by torturing her instead. She kicked. Barsad moved out of reach, but she nailed his pal in the gonads.

Big nose laughed and said something in a language she didn't understand. "The traitor is waking now, Bane." He helped the bent-over soldier out of the gate and past their large leader. Barsad moved to the far corner of the cage where he could still watch.

Selina glanced down at Bruce. The gash down his forehead above his right eye still bled, but his eyes focused on her. Recognition dawned into horror as Bane strode inside and squatted in Bruce's line of sight.

Bruce swallowed. "Why didn't you just kill me?"

"You don't fear death," Bane answered. "You welcome it. Your punishment must be more severe."

"Torture," Bruce nearly whispered.

"Yes, but not of your body." Bane leaned in closer to Bruce. "Of your soul. But first, you will tell me where you hid your armory."

Bruce's voice grew stronger. "You can't have it."

"Stubborn to the last." Bane placed his hand on Bruce's chest and pushed himself up. Bruce yelled and thrashed. Selina pulled at the zip ties but found no slack. Bane towered over her. "Which is why your whore is here. What is your favorite part of her body, Traitor?" Bane's finger slid down her arm. "We'll start with it."

"Torturing her won't get you what you want." Bruce heaved in more air. "You can't have what was stored in Applied Sciences."

One of Bane's meaty hands wrapped around her throat and he leaned aside so Bruce saw it. "There is nowhere in Gotham you can hide it where we cannot find it."

"You have a submarine?" The men stared at each other until Bane dropped his hand. Bruce took a deep breath. "The captain of the _Takino Doukutsu Maru_ owed me a favor. I had him dump the containers holding all the prototypes overboard beyond the continental shelf."

Bane looked across the cage. Barsad met his gaze and they held a silent conversation. It ended when Bane strode to the gate and Barsad followed. The gate shut with the familiar buzz of a magnetic lock. The men continued out of the tunnel.

Selina flexed her fingers and pulled, but neither plastic nor metal gave way. Goddamn it, they had to get out of here! The chain-link fencing rattled. And if she couldn't get Bruce out, she had to bring back help--Blake! The baby-faced cop would be believed if he said Bane was under Wayne Enterprises. The zip tie bit down on the bones of her hand.

"Selina," Bruce called. He forced his eyes open. "They drugged me?" She nodded, rather than speak through the gag. "I can't move my legs." His eyelids slid shut. "Get out of here. Get out."

She twisted her arm, but the zip tie moved with it. Bane would kill him if she escaped, but Bruce left her behind knowing that was a possibility. Damn it, she came down here to save him. _Bang up job so far, Selina Kyle._

Footsteps came down the tunnel. She saw Barsad returning alone and stopped struggling. He closed the gate once he was inside. "There is a story told once a man passes his final test into the League of Shadows." He glared down at Bruce. "The test the Traitor refused to comply with."

Selina settled for staring at him bewilderedly. Bruce flunked out of their murdering boys' club? Color her shocked, but why tell her? Barsad pulled a Ka-Bar survivalist's knife from its sheath on his minimalist flak vest. She tried to swallow but the gag soaked up her spit.

He smirked and stepped closer to her. "A mercenary fell in love with the daughter of his warlord. They married in secret." He plucked the right black bra strap into the air. "The warlord condemned the mercenary to a prison at the bottom of a pit, hell on Earth, when he discovered the truth. But at the last moment, he exiled the mercenary instead, dropping him at the side of a barren road." Barsad sliced through the elastic. "The mercenary knew his wife had secured his freedom, but he didn't know the true price. The warlord's daughter took his place in the pit." He plucked the left bra strap and sliced it.

"Leave her alone," Bruce rasped.

"Pay attention, Traitor." Barsad's hand slipped into her cleavage and squeezed her breast. She kicked, but he blocked it. "The warlord's daughter gave birth to the mercenary's child in that hell." He cut the seam between her bra cups and admired her breasts as they tumbled free. "She survived in that hell for a few years." He pushed her left leg up and out until her thigh was flat against the fencing. He tied it in place with her ruined bra.

"The criminals held in the pit turned on her. They raped and killed her. Her child survived by climbing out of the pit, the feat no other prisoner dared attempt." He seized her panties on her hip and pulled the material away from her body.

Selina screamed behind the gag and kicked at Barsad again. He leaned his shoulder against her chest, cut her panties, shoved her right leg against the fencing, and tied it there with the fabric. He stepped back so Bruce's furious face saw her suspended like a bondage masochist's wet dream.

Bruce rolled onto his side with a gasping yell. "Don't you dare touch her!"

"Your punishment for siding with the Traitor is to suffer what the warlord's daughter suffered." Barsad holstered his knife and unzipped his camo pants. "Only your death will not be quick." He shoved into her.

Bruce's face twisted with guilt and then rage. He lunged at Barsad's legs, but the mercenary was out of reach. He toppled off the cot and screamed with pain as he hit the floor.

Barsad chuckled as he zipped up. "Too bad we cannot find your blonde friend. She wouldn't be so quiet." Selina stared unblinkingly at him. He soon found insolence in it and backhanded her across the face. She turned back and glared again. He huffed up. "You will be the last thing taken from the Traitor before he is allowed to die." He cut the zip ties from the fencing, but she had to curl her fingers into the chain-links to not topple over.

"Take care of him while you are able," he ordered as he stepped over Bruce's prone body.

She waited until Barsad disappeared around the tunnel's curve before moving. She ignored the pins and needles sensation and forced her fingers to untie the knots around her thighs. She leaned against the cage wall as she untied the gag. "Bruce?" She knelt next to him.

He was out cold. She took a deep breath, wrapped her arms around his chest, and pulled up. She didn't so much lower his upper body back on the cot as toppled him onto it with her on top of him. She tugged her arms free and dragged the rest of him onto the cot. Then she sat on the edge and took stock while she got her breath back.

The cage was six-feet-by-six-feet, three walls made of the chain-link fencing welded to the upright poles at the corners and the horizontal poles about three inches from the tunnel's ceiling and the horizontal poles about four inches off the ground. With tools that would be enough space to do something, she made a mental note and moved to the back wall.

It was stone, bedrock probably, but where the chain-link fencing must be attached to a metal pole, it was embedded in concrete that had dried to the stone. The industrial spotlight mounted to the top of the cage above the gate lit the whole area. The magnetic lock was a brand she recognized and a fail-secure version. Not that she could see the electrical power supply lines. They must have run them inside the poles. Really, she preferred it when the jailers weren't so thorough.

There was a port-a-potty missing its walls next to a table across from the cot. The table was welded steel and too heavy for her to lift, but it had a folded blanket and an unopened bottle of water on it. She took both back to the cot.

She used the former gag to clean Bruce's head wound. It had finally stopped bleeding. She laid the wet rag on his forehead just in case he had swelling and drained the rest of the bottle. "You owe me a night at the Carlyle." Her sarcasm sounded pleading as she smoothed the blanket over him. She tucked herself against his right side, away from the chain-link wall, and avoided putting her weight on his injured body.

She dropped the rough blanket over and let her crashing adrenalin lull her into a doze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter I decided that there are too many characters with names that start with a B in this movie. And I go and tagged another one as "Big nose." :p
> 
> I am pretty uneasy about this chapter; how it can be read that I'm depending on rape to make things worse for our heroes. But there was no way sending Bruce and a healthy Selina to the Pit worked with what else is going on. I hope you still trust me to keep reading.


	12. Chapter Eleven

Blake put an X next to the address he had just left, a sewer upgrade at the edge of Trillium Park. Eight sites visited, and he still didn't have a clue what Daggett's construction crews were doing. He had finished with all the sites on Uptown Island yesterday. That should give him enough plausible deniability for missing Wayne pulling Batgear out of Wayne Enterprises' basement. Unfortunately, nothing looked abnormal at any of the pour sites. The bridges had so much traffic on them something wrong would be obvious, right? His cell phone rang. "Blake," he answered.

"Detective Blake, this is Lucius Fox. Do you have any idea where Mr. Wayne and Ms. Kyle are?"

Alarm prickled over Blake's scalp, but he kept his voice calm. "I haven't heard from them since I left Wayne Enterprises yesterday."

"Both of their cell phones are going to voicemail. No one is answering at Ms. Kyle's hotel room or the Manor." Fox choked off his sigh. "Applied Sciences was broken into last night. They didn't get anything; Ms. Kyle and I packed up all the prototypes yesterday. But Ms. Tate called a Board meeting this morning, and I haven't seen the damage yet."

And Fox would not expose Wayne's secrets. "It's a lead. I have to meet with the Commissioner this morning, but I'll check Ms. Kyle's hotel room. Then if you're finished, we can see if Bane left any clues in the basement."

Fox sounded relieved. "Ms. Kyle was staying at the Carlyle, room number 3312. Thank you, Detective Blake."

Blake said good bye and hung up before driving to the Carlyle. No one answered his knock at 3312. He coaxed a key card out of the front desk with his badge and assurances of discretion. He let himself into the quiet suite. "Wayne? Kyle?" Nothing answered his call down the hallway. A pressure in his chest joined his prickling scalp. Wayne and Kyle were probably the most capable people in Gotham. He had no reason to worry about them. His gut wasn't buying it.

He opened the first door in the hallway, a bedroom. A duffle bag and an open rolling suitcase sat on the floor against the wall. The bed was rumpled and the smell of sex lingered in the air. "Seriously, Wayne?" he muttered to himself. "Of all the women in Gotham?"

Blake ducked out to check the rest of the suite. Other than room service dishes left on the table, there were no signs of occupancy in the living room or kitchenette. He returned to the luggage. Both cell phones were here; Wayne's tucked into his duffle bag of clothes along with his wallet and ID. Kyle's was in her purse along with three different IDs. He threw the purse into her suitcase as well as the toiletries bag from the bathroom.

He found a note on the bedside table when he exited the bathroom. Addressed to Selina, so presumably Wayne wrote it, yeah, he signed it; Blake moved his eyes back to the top and read. "Shit, Wayne! Why didn't you call me?" Kyle must have followed him because Blake doubted she would have left her luggage if she ran.

But what happened to them since last night? The coffee in his stomach churned. "Don't jump to conclusions." Just because they didn't come back didn't mean Bane won. He'd ask Fox about Batman hiding spots. He tucked the note into his pocket. He looked inside Wayne's wallet since he mentioned it. A USB drive, a wad of cash, and the credit cards were undisturbed.

But his gut said to grab their luggage, to protect their identities if for no other reason. He also checked Selina Kyle out of the hotel. If they needed a place to stay, they could check back in. He headed to Gotham General.

Gordon was alone, sitting up in his hospital bed and reading police reports. He laid them down on his blanket-covered lap. "Hello Blake, any luck contacting Batman?"

The hidden letter burned his skin, but the Commissioner didn't care who Batman is. "I found him, sir. He said he had a lead on Bane, but I haven't heard from him since."

"Did you tell him about Daggett's projects?"

Blake nodded. "Daggett paid Bane to secure his mining operations by force in West Africa. Then Bane used Daggett to get to Gotham."

"He didn't tell you what his lead was?"

"No, sir. I know he's used to working alone, but you said Bane has an army. I'm worried he's in over his cowl."

Gordon frowned as he stared at the black television set. Foley barged into the hospital room, his tension given away by the crease between his eyebrows. "You were right, Commissioner. Your masked man kidnapped the Wayne Enterprise board. He let most of them go, but took three down into the sewers."

Blake kept his mask in place, but his sinking stomach knew one of those three was Lucius Fox.

"No more patrols," Gordon ordered with a determination Blake hadn't seen in him before. "No more hide and seek. Send every available cop down there to smoke him out!"

Foley hesitated. "The mayor won't want panic."

"So it's a training exercise," Blake said.

For once, Foley didn't sneer or bite his head off, and Gordon nodded his approval. Foley turned to leave, but glanced back, not quite looking at the Commissioner's face. "I'm sorry I didn't take you seriously--" He broke off and strode out.

Blake started after Foley but Gordon stopped him. "Not you. You're telling me the Batman's gone. So you chase down the Daggett leads."

"I have been." He consulted his notes. "Uptown, Daggett Industries did maintenance work on all the bridges crossing the East, North, and Queens Rivers. Nothing out of place and traffic flowing normally. I didn't see anything wrong with the Carter Bridge, so I moved Downtown. Chelsea Tunnel and Sandy Hook Bridge looked okay. Daggett Industries built the new Gotham Stadium, but I couldn't get in with all the game day prep. I started on all the sewer work surrounding Trillium Park this morning."

Gordon frowned. "Where did Daggett get all his concrete?"

Blake flipped through his papers. "Makes it. Daggett Industries owns about a dozen cement plants."

"Check them too, and call me directly with updates."

Blake nodded and headed out.

* * *

Selina woke up as the footsteps came toward them. The soldiers were not bothering with silence as they carried a flat-screen television set to the side of the cage closest to the cot. She propped herself up on her elbow and watched a third man bring a stand for it. They ignored her as they installed it so the screen was visible through the fencing from the cot.

Bruce turned his head and blinked at them. "Is that a television?"

"I'm pretty sure it's Daggett's television. But why?"

"To teach the truth about despair," Bane answered. She twisted to face the cage's gate. No one that big should be able to move that silently. Bruce's arm snaked under the blanket, pulled her down against him, and held her there while Bane opened the gate.

"And what truth is that?" Bruce asked.

Bane stared down at them. "There can be no true despair without hope. I had looked forward to giving you the same lesson I had been given, imagining the climb to freedom, but we have a schedule to keep." He shrugged. "This will have to suffice, buried where no one will even guess to search for you, with no opportunity to escape."

_Challenge accepted, bastard,_ Selina vowed to herself.

"As I terrorize Gotham, I will feed its people hope to poison their souls. I will let them believe they can survive, so that you can watch them clamber over each other to stay in the sun." He pointed to the television set, and then leaned closer. "You will watch as I torture an entire city. Then, when you have truly understood the depths of your failure, we will fulfill Ra's al Ghul's destiny. We will destroy Gotham. We will kill the whore you cling to. And when it is done--when Gotham is ashes--then you have my permission to die." He strode out of their cage without a backwards glance.

The sounds of slamming lids and grunting men echoed down the tunnel. Barsad pushed a tray of food under the chain-link fencing, turned the television onto the pre-game coverage for the Rogues and Rapid City Monuments football game, and left the cage.

Bruce sighed and loosened his grip on her. "What does he have planned?"

"The surprise party from hell." Selina got up, leaving the blanket with Bruce, and picked up the food tray: two cans of chicken noodle soup, two bottles of water, two plastic spoons, and four slices of bread on a scuffed-up plastic tray. "Don't suppose you can MacGyver a pair of pliers out of this, can you?" She carried the tray to the cot.

He focused on the purple line and raw skin around her wrist. "I didn't keep you safe."

She set the tray on the floor and sat on the cot beside him. "I don't think we should talk about your idea on keeping me safe." She opened one of the water bottles. "If I get pissed off about it again, I might hurt you. And you've been hurt enough."

He drank from the bottle slowly before focusing his troubled hazel eyes on her face. "They hurt you." He reached up and touched her cheek. "To hurt me, they hurt you."

She set down his water bottle before taking his hand. He shifted the grip to twine their fingers together. She bent over him, nose to nose, and dropped her voice. "You care about me, Bruce?"

"Yes," he squeezed her hand.

"Don't take the blame for this. I followed you because you needed me. Barsad is a dipshit who thinks his dick is a weapon that will break me. He has no clue what actually will, so let's keep it that way." She dropped her lips on top of his.

He didn't recoil, but accepted her kiss and brought his other hand up to cradle the back of her head. They broke apart and he studied her face intently before letting her sit up. "You're pissed."

"Of course." And she was patient. "Aren't you?"

His eyes crossed slightly. "I'm so concussed right now, I'm not sure what my emotional state is."

"How bad are you hurt? Bane doesn't want you dead yet. Maybe we can bargain for a real doctor instead of their medic who looked you over last night."

"I can't move my legs." He swallowed hard. "Any movement sends pain up my spine. What happened?"

She combed his hair off his forehead. "What do you remember?"

He closed his eyes. "I fought Bane, couldn't stop him, couldn't keep him down." He reached up and touched the cut on his forehead. "He broke the cowl. It's all blurry."

"Bane slammed your back on his knee. His medic said your L3 vertebra is dislocated." He opened his eyes and stared at her. "I don't think they treated it."

"I'm supposed to suffer. Touch my feet."

Selina gave him an I'm-humoring-you-because-your-day-has-sucked look before pivoting to his feet. She pulled up the blanket and ran her nails along his ankle. His feet had scars too. She trailed her fingernails onto his instep and then switched feet.

"I feel that. You just pulled my toe. Are they moving?"

"Nope."

"Damn. Come up my legs, please."

She pulled the blanket out of the way and rubbed her hands against the rough cotton weave of the dingy blue pants. She paused when she reached his groin. "You're finding this sexier than it actually is."

"Reflexogenic erection, that's a good sign along with feeling sensation even though I can't move."

"I'm disappointed that was just medical." She gave him more water before sitting beside him again. "Care to share the good news?"

Bruce took a deep breath. "Those are signs that the spinal cord isn't completely severed."

She gasped, not really expecting it to be good news. "So how do we fix you?"

He squeezed his eyes shut. "I don't know."

"Maybe one of the Rogues will throw his back out during the game and the sportscasters will give us a seminar on it. Ready for some food?" She held up a can of soup.

She fed Bruce first and he dozed off while she ate her can. Should she keep the can lids to use as tools or a weapon in a pinch? Better lull Barsad into a false state of control before shattering his world. She kept her half-full water bottle, but put the rest of the trash on the tray and slid it under the fencing.

She turned back around to Bruce pulling his T-shirt up his chest. "What are you doing?"

"Put it on," he said through gritted teeth. He tugged the material up behind his head and choked off his cry of pain.

Selina yanked it over his head. His arms slid free and fell on the cot as he panted. She looked down at her naked body. "Tired of the view already?"

His eyelids drooped. Just that little bit of effort cost him. "Don't want to share the view."

Selina slipped the T-shirt over her head and then sat on the edge of the cot where she could see the television. Bruce's arm snaked around her hips and held onto her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I slept last night, so I shouldn't be this sleepy. Seriously, I'll crawl into bed early tonight.


	13. Chapter Twelve

Blake didn't bother with pleasantries once Gordon answered his cell phone. "I've been to half of Daggett's cement plants and logged locations where they've poured for underground construction."

"Anything strange about the pourings?" Gordon asked.

Blake's sigh drew his hand off the steering wheel briefly. "Honestly, Commissioner," he glanced at the street map covering the passenger seat. All the marks he had made on it still didn't mean anything to him. "I don't know anything about civil engineering."

"But you know about patterns," Gordon insisted. "Keep looking."

"Yes," Blake hung up and turned his unmarked police car to the next cement plant on his list. He parked, flashed his badge at the worker who came to shoo him off the premises, and scanned the area for anything out of the ordinary. He spotted a familiar face and strode across the cement-dust covered yard. "Hey, hey!" The driver paused next to a cement truck and waited for Blake and his coworker. "That was you in front of the Stock Exchange, wasn't it?"

The driver spread out his arms. "When?"

"When? When half the city's cops are trying to pull onto Apple Street and your truck was shutting them out." Blake gestured at the orange and green cement truck they stood beside.

Recognition dawned on the scruffy face under the hard hat. "Oh yeah, you're a cop."

"Detective now, and as a detective, we're not allowed to believe in coincidence." Blake shifted, sensing the man behind him moving. He lunged forward with a knife. Blake shoved the driver aside, sidestepped the blade, and pulled his sidearm.

He shot the man with the knife, but the driver wrapped thick arms around him. Blake couldn't break the hold as he pounded the driver's side with his elbow. The driver's grapple shifted up and squeezed Blake's ribs.

Blake seized his sidearm with both hands and aimed at the cement truck. The shot ricocheted off the metal and hit the burly man in his back.

The driver's arms sprang open as he fell back. Blake crouched over him and grabbed the diver's coveralls. "What were you doin' here? What are you workin' on?" But the driver was beyond answering Blake's shouts.

The adrenaline surge receded, leaving Blake sick. He killed these men. They attacked, he killed, and all he could think was _Batman doesn't kill_. He threw his sidearm and it skidded across the cement. He took deep breaths as he moved away from the bodies and called the Commissioner. He got voice mail; he felt better confessing to it. "Commissioner, it's Blake. I've got two dead witnesses and a whole lot of questions. Call me when--"

He picked up his sidearm and faced the barrels lined up behind the cement truck. "Wait a minute, four barrels of Polyisobutylene. That looks like motor oil right next to it." The chemistry lesson clicked into place. "Jesus, they're not making cement," he ran to his car. "They're making explosives."

He hung up and grabbed his marked-up map. His read dots formed a ring around Trillium Park and two more blocks on Downtown Island, where most of the Bane sightings had occurred so the operation to flush him out began there. He slammed the car door shut and peeled out of the cement plant.

"Patch me into Foley," he told Dispatch over the radio.

"Foley's overseeing the operation."

"They're heading into a trap!"

* * *

"We're seeing literally thousands of police heading into the sewers, Mr. Mayor? Literally thousands--" The voice of GCN reporter Vicky Vale woke Bruce up again. Selina hadn't moved from her perch on the cot and his arm curled around her.

He turned to the television screen and saw Mayor Garcia addressing the reporter. "It's a training exercise, that's all. Now if you'll excuse me," he waved his tickets above his head and Bruce realized he wore a Rogues jacket over his suit and tie. "I've got tickets to watch our boys thrash Rapid City." He grinned and waved at the cameras before moving through the stadium gate.

"Thousands of police heading into the sewers," Selina repeated. "Gordon must be feeling better to make them do that."

The sounds of men moving at the other end of the tunnel had ended hours ago. "Or Bane finally proved he is a real threat." The sportscasters fell silent to let a young boy sing the national anthem. "He wanted us to watch this, why?"

The boy finished singing and the players took position for the first kick. Bruce forced his eyes open even though the drone of the sportscaster repeating everything on the field lulled his senses. The muffled booms and vibrating rocks jarred him awake.

Selina threw herself over his head and chest. He wrapped his arms around her head. Rocks slid into their cage from the back wall with a deafening roar. It finally ended and she looked up. He craned his neck disregarding the pain and saw they had lost two feet of the cage as the back corner closest to the toilet had vanished in the rubble.

He blinked away the concrete dust. The rock slide was as impenetrable as the solid rock wall had been. Screaming didn't help. He looked at Selina.

She wasn't screaming; she looked over the rest of the cage. He turned back to the television set. The football game was still broadcasting. The spectators in the stadium screamed that the green turf was now a smoking brown pit.

"Gotham," Bane's voice called out. The stadium cameras focused on the mask man strolling along the outer edge of the crater. Bane's men covered the audience with their automatic rifles and blocked the exits onto what was left of the field. "Take control." Bane waved his hand for their attention. "Take control of your city."

"My God," Selina said. "Everybody in America will see this."

"This is the instrument of your liberation." Bane gestured at the round sphere on a handcart that four of his men pushed out of the tunnel and onto the field.

Bruce inhaled sharply. "He has the reactor!"

"The one you built?" Her brown eyes stared down at him.

"Yes." He felt tears stinging his eyes. "What did he do to Lucius and Miranda? They were the only ones who knew where it was."

More mercenaries forced a grey-haired man out of the tunnel and onto his knees in front of Bane. "Identify yourself to the world," Bane ordered and held the headset microphone to the man's lips.

"Doctor Leonid Pavel, nuclear physicist," he responded.

"And what is this?" Bane said into the microphone as he pointed to the black and silver sphere without looking at it.

"A fully primed neutron bomb." Pavel took a deep breath. "With a blast radius of six miles."

"And who is capable of disarming such a device?"

"Only me."

"Only you," Bane echoed. "Thank you, good Doctor." Without dropping the headset, Bane twist Pavel's head until his neck snapped. The crowd in the stadium screamed as his body fell to the ground. Bruce clenched his teeth as rage surged at the blatant disregard for human life. Selina's hand wrapped around his.

"Now," Bane continued, "this bomb is armed, this bomb is mobile, and the identity of the trigger man is a mystery. For one of you," he pointed to the crowd in the stadium, "holds the detonator. Now, we came here not as conquerors, but as liberators to return control of this city to the people. And at the first sign of interference from the outside world or of people attempting to flee, this anonymous Gothamite, this unsung hero, will trigger the bomb. For now, martial law is now in effect."

"Like the police will obey him," Selina said.

"Return to your homes," Bane ordered. "Hold your families close and wait. Tomorrow, you claim what is rightfully yours." He dropped the headset next to Pavel's body and strolled off the field.

Bruce squeezed her hand. "The police are trapped down here too," he growled out. Theatricality and deception hid the fact that the reactor was now a time bomb. It was a tactic worthy of Ra's al Ghul. His rage reached himself. "I should have flooded it three years ago. Now the whole city will pay for my hubris."

"Hubris?" Selina asked softly as alarmed newscasters looked for their journalistic calm.

"I thought I could change it so Pavel's technique wouldn't work. When that didn't work, I just hid it." He stared at the footage on the television screen as his anger pulsed with his heartbeat.

* * *

Mike Engle parked his car at North 11th and Maine Streets. This wasn't his job. All the producers, hell even Lew Moxon, the president of GCN, made it clear that he was part of the story and therefore a liability to reporting the story. Nobody else in Gotham wanted to hire his infamous face afterwards, but with his severance package and the money from his book deal, _Terror With a Smile: The Clown Prince of Crime's Reign of Gotham City_ , he settled comfortably in North Point.

Today's terrorist activity had nothing to do with that deranged clown. Gotham needed journalists to explain what was going on and once upon a time he had been a journalist before he landed a studio talk show. So he followed the heavy equipment down Akron Avenue when he saw the construction workers carried automatic weapons.

He left his car and walked up the block to Hampshire Street. This gave him a clear view of the ramp down to the Washington Tunnel across the North River. A bulldozer pushed a police car down the ramp. He ducked between two buildings as a camouflage-painted Hummer pushed another car down Hampshire.

He called Summer Gleeson as he crouched against a locked doorway in the alley. "Mike? I don't have time to talk. I have to get back on the air."

"I'm an eyewitness to what these terrorists are doing at the Washington Tunnel."

Summer always was fast, no surprise she was already a studio head. She started barking out orders. The Hummer drove past the alley.

"Mike, this is Scott," the next clear voice Mike heard was one of the producers back from his days at GCN. "We're putting you on the air. Summer's introducing you, go."

Static like he was put on a speakerphone joined Summer's voice. "Mike, tell Gotham what you are seeing."

He crept back to the mouth of the alley. "I'm looking down Hampshire Street at the mouth of the Washington Tunnel. Armed men are using a bulldozer and crane from Daggett Industries to stack vehicles in the mouth of the tunnel. They also have a camouflage Hummer pushing vehicles parked on Hampshire Street to the tunnel."

"Bane's televised speech at Gotham City Stadium said the bomb would be detonated if people left Gotham." Summer's voice warbled slightly over his speaker.

"From here, it looks like he isn't taking a chance that people want to stay." He heard a shout behind him and whirled around. "Up the block, a man has come out of the apartment building. He's yelling and gesturing at the men in the Hummer, pointing at the blue car they're about to push down the street. He's walking around the car now going to the driver's side."

The Hummer's driver leaned his head and arm out the window. The crack echoed down the street and Mike scrambled back into the alley before they saw him beyond the fallen man. "My God, they shot him in the head! He was just taking his car away from them and they shot him!"

"Everyone watching and listening, do not confront these terrorists. Do not--" Summer's voice abruptly cut off.

"You're off the air, Mike," Scott said. "Can you get to the studio? We need you on this."

"What about Moxon? He made it clear with my severance package that I couldn't set foot on GCN property ever again." Mike headed down the alley and ducked behind a dumpster as the Hummer shoved the blue car past.

"Moxon is in Aruba with his mistress. Let him shit a brick to see you on the air. You're safer with a camera. This Bane guy, he wants the world to see what's going on. I'm losing reporters who have families."

"No guilt trip necessary, I'm coming in." He hung up his phone and moved back to his car. The memory hit him hard: the smell of rubber as he tried to breathe, landing flat on his back, and staring up at Batman who pulled that damn clown mask off his head. _We need that crazy vigilante now. What happened after the police chase?_ He shook his head as he climbed into his car. He couldn't worry about Batman, not when he had to use a camera to keep a mad man happy.

* * *

Renee Montoya coughed. The world finally stopped exploding. She moved her arms and legs as she pushed off the concrete floor. Other than breathing in enough concrete dust to build a patio, she was fine. Human groans reached her ears. "Kelly? Jensen? Mason? Wilkes?"

"Present." Jensen's voice sounded more high schoolish than it usually did.

"Are you in one piece, Montoya?" Kelly asked in return.

"Yes." She found her hand-held flashlight. The front of the Maglite was flattened. She hit the off switch. They may need the batteries.

The radio hooked to her shoulder crackled. "Mon… hear…. Dispatch … dead!"

"Bullock?" They had left her hefty partner on the surface, not willing to risk him getting stuck in the sewers. Foley handpicked their group to go after the kidnapped Wayne Enterprise executives while the rest of the police searched the tunnels starting at the other end of Gotham. "Bullock, this is Montoya. What's going on?"

"Explosions all over Gotham!" The rest was lost to static.

"Did he say explosions?" Jensen jerked his flashlight around.

"Bring your light over here, Jensen," Kelly ordered. Jensen's light spun away from Montoya and showed Kelly at the crumpled wall spanning the tunnel they had traveled down.

"You're breaking up. Repeat."

"Terrorist attack. Dispatch shot went dead."

_Dios mío_ , Montoya breathed to center herself. 

Kelly shone his light past her and she saw a matching wall in pieces ahead of their location. "Mason confirmed dead," Kelly said. Jensen's light focused on a blue clad arm poking out of the rocks. "Wilkes' status unknown."

Montoya repeated that to her partner and explained their trapped status twice. Bullock's final response promised to bring help.

Kelly sat down next to her. "Bullock is as hard-headed as they come, but we can't pin our hopes on a rescue."

"Why not?" Jensen remembered to aim his flashlight at the floor as he joined them.

"They took out emergency dispatch," Montoya answered. She felt cold. "They don't want anyone to have help."

"Turn off your light, Jensen. We may need the batteries later."

Jensen obeyed Kelly's suggestion. Montoya looked up at the smooth concrete ceiling. No manhole cover or storm drain here. She pulled out her copy of the sewer system map and set it on the floor under Kelly's flashlight beam. "We're not in the sewer system."

Kelly leaned closer. "We entered the sewers here." His thick finger tapped the map at the intersection of East 18th Street and Michael Street.

"Right, and then we intersected with this tunnel about fifty feet in and took the drier route toward the Wayne Enterprises building. Where we are isn't marked on the map." She looked up at both their pinched expressions. "I think the terrorists built this and blew it up so no one could follow them."

"Trapping us here because we were following them." Jensen dropped his head into his hands.

"I vote to dig that way." Montoya pointed at the lodged rocks blocking the tunnel ahead. "Bullock won't find help and we can't stay here."

"We still have to find the hostages," Kelly said.

"But if we find a route to the surface, we go up." Jensen swallowed. "I know we had our orders, but the situation's changed with a terrorist attack on the whole city."

"Agreed. Let's start digging."

* * *

Blake drove down the streets to reach Foley and the rest of the police force as the explosions ripped it apart from underneath. He swerved around a storm drain spewing smoke and rock. Manhole covers popped off and belched like tiny volcanoes. He wove the car between them and the other cars that stopped driving on this street. He drove through the flames, but something shoved his car up. He slung his arm over his face.

His car flipped, landed on the roof, skidded, and rolled onto its wheels again. It wasn't drive-able but the siren continued to shriek as the rest of the world fell into silence. The car door opened when he pulled the lever. He grabbed the car radio's mike. "Foley?"

"Jesus, Blake! Every cop in the city is down in those tunnels."

Blake's gut iced over as he blinked away the concrete dust and ash. "Not every cop." He grabbed the police car's shotgun. Dispatch screamed over the radio that armed men were forcing their way inside, but he couldn't do anything about that. No telling where Bane had stationed his men or what criminals would do with law and order trapped underground. He spied a black SUV pulled over further up the road. "Sir, are you okay?" The driver barely got an affirmative out before Blake interrupted. "I'm a police officer; I need your car right now." The driver didn't protest, even as Blake yanked him out of the seat.

He turned north at the next intersection and sped up Cherry Street. He cut over to Trillium Street only when he was a block away from the Narrows Bridge. He glanced over at the Narrows, childhood neighborhood of terror now left entirely to Arkham Asylum. He hoped Bane wasn't crazy enough to unleash those crazies. He continued up Moore Avenue to Gotham General Hospital. He honked the horn so dazed people would get out of his way.

Blake pulled the borrowed SUV to a stop at the front doors of the hospital. The panicked ducking from the people in the first waiting room confirmed his worse suspicions. He wasn't the first gunman to run through here today. He shoved a door open with his shoulder and ran up the stairs. The electricity fluctuated too much to trust the elevators. He scanned for the enemy through every open door he passed. Two gunshots interrupted the alarms and the panic of the patients. He stopped clearing the building and pelted for Gordon's room.

He kicked open the door. Two bodies on the floor visible and a warm gun muzzle pressed against the base of his skull, a gun that had just been fired. He swallowed hard.

"Clear the corners, rookie," Gordon chastised. Blake turned to him as he pulled back his Smith & Wesson hand gun. "Get my coat, son."

Blake opened up the wardrobe locker while Gordon guarded the door. "I spotted it too late, sir. Foley couldn't pull anyone out." He found a whole set of fresh clothes and set them on the bed. He guarded the door while Gordon dressed. "I think Bane took out Dispatch too, but I had to switch to a civilian car, so I don't know details."

"GCN didn't share that tidbit. Bane released the audience at the Stadium, well, the ones he didn't blow up. Vicky Vale found out they blew up the mayor and half the city council that were attending the game."

"Damn, how prepared is this bastard?"

Gordon returned to the door. "Check those two thugs and confiscate their weapons."

Blake knelt next to the bodies. Both forgot to put their identification in their wallets, how convenient. He hung their automatic rifles from his shoulder and pocketed their extra clips. "No I.D.s"

Gordon pressed his free hand against his stomach. "Time to retreat and regroup."

They headed out of the hospital. The sun dropped behind the buildings. At least traffic was now nonexistent, but that made their SUV more visible. Blake tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "My apartment's not far. Bane will look for you at yours."

Gordon nodded as he turned the radio onto a news station. They played Bane's speech at the Stadium before cutting to the President's response.

"The people of our greatest city are resilient. They've proven this before, and they will prove it again. We do not negotiate with terrorists, but we do recognize realities. As this situation develops, one thing must be understood above all others, people of Gotham, we have not abandoned you."

"What does that mean?" Blake asked as he drove down the darkened streets. He was glad no one else was ignoring the unlit traffic lights and causing wrecks.

Gordon sighed. "It means we're on our own." 

"I can't believe I voted for that guy."

Gordon licked his lips. "I have to get in front of a camera."

"No, sir, they will kill you the moment you show your face."

"Bane says he's giving Gotham back to the people. They need to know I could lead."

"Bane is not gonna let that happen."

"Then he'll show his true colors."

"And you'll be dead," Blake said. Gordon didn't respond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I discovered what scenes I had outlined and handwritten as Chapter Twelve fell too short in word count, so I added in Chapter Thirteen scenes until I found the best stopping point. Now I need to renumber the chapters in the rough draft again. But this is why there's still a question mark on how long this will be. As soon as I think I have the chapter amount pegged, I have to renumber them.
> 
> Another point, I'm taking most of the names for Gotham City streets and bridges from the Nokia maps. In the movie, Blake names the street the cement truck was on as Castle Street, but it wasn't on the map so I changed it. Sutter Bridge on the map I've relabeled at Gotham Bridge, since that was the name of the one left unexploded by Bane.
> 
> And I love the title of Mike Engle's book; hope you guys do too.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

  


### Occupation of Gotham City: Day 2

Selina shoved today's food tray under the fence. GCN studio heads repeated the information they had discovered yesterday while waiting to go to Vicky Vale's location. "Do you think they drew straws or she figures Bane didn't kill her at the stadium so she has immunity now?"

"He wants to keep the world's attention on Gotham until the reactor bomb blow up." Bruce never turned his head from the television set.

"How long do we have on that?"

"Months, I'm not sure how many." He curled his arm around her hips after she sat down. "Once I read Pavel's paper, I concentrated less on the calculations and more on how to make it not blow up."

And now that Bane killed Pavel, Bruce was probably the only one in Gotham who could defuse the bomb. Like she needed more pressure to keep him alive.

GCN finally brought the slim brunette to the screen. "This is Vicky Vale live from outside Blackgate Prison with reporters from other Gotham news channels. Our news organizations were all given the same invitation from Bane's Army to come to Blackgate and bear witness to the next stage of the revolution. They're… they're coming."

The camera panned off of her and focused down the street. Three camo-painted Hummers drove slow enough to keep pace with the men marching beside them. They parked across the street from the prison wall. The armed mercenaries took positions on the steps of the columned building. Bane climbed on top of the Hummer's roof. The camera followed him up and the white stone columns behind him cast a perfect democratic appeal background. "Do they teach public relations at mercenary school or is Bane naturally gifted?" Selina asked.

Bruce's hand on her thigh curled into a fist. "The League honed Bane's talents."

Before she could question his certainty on that point, Bane launched into his speech. "Behind you stands the symbol of oppression, Blackgate Prison, where a thousand men have languished under the name of this man." He paused pull out an eight-by-ten photograph; the same head shot used during his campaign, his funeral, and the festivities annually honoring his memory. "Harvey Dent, who has been held up to you as the shining example of justice."

Selina frowned. Where was he going with this story? Everyone in Gotham knew Batman killed Dent because the Commissioner, the Mayor, and the City Council all repeated it. But she was sitting next to the man who had saved Harvey Dent and didn't let her shoot any of Bane's men. Bruce stared at Bane.

"You have been supplied with a false idol." Bane ripped Dent's photograph in half down his handsome All-American face. "To stop you from tearing down this corrupt city," he continued ripping the photograph into confetti. "Let me tell you the truth about Harvey Dent from the words of Gotham's police commissioner James Gordon."

Bruce squeezed his fist tighter.

Bane unfolded sheets of paper he pulled from his coat's pocket. "The Batman didn't murder Harvey Dent. He saved my boy, then took the blame for Harvey's appalling crimes, so I could--to my shame--build a lie around this fallen idol. I praised the madman who tried to murder my own child. But I can no longer live with my lie. It is time to trust the people of Gotham with the truth and it is time for me to resign. And do you accept this man's resignation?"

The camera picked up the roar of men's voices.

"And do you accept the resignation of all of these liars? Of all the corrupt? Retake Gotham from the corrupt!" Bane waved his hand at the Hummer behind him. The man lay on the roof and braced his rocket launcher.

The camera jerked to the reporters running away from the massive black steel gate that had given the prison its name. The cameraman turned back to Bane from a safer vantage point, so now the screen showed the whole street.

Bane shifted so he spoke to the reporters and the prison. "The rich, the oppressors of generations, who have kept you down with myths of opportunity. And we'll give it back to you," he threw out his hands in a sign of generosity, "the people. Gotham is yours. None shall interfere. Do as you please."

The rocket launcher shot the black gate. Bane's mercenaries marched through the jagged hole in the metal.

"Step forward those who would serve, for an army will be raised. The powerful will be ripped from their decadent nests and cast out into the cold world that we know and endure. Courts will be convened. Spoils will be enjoyed. Blood will be shed. The police will survive as they learn to serve true justice. This great city, it will endure. Gotham will survive." The camera panned to the stream of men in orange jumpsuits brandishing weapons over their heads as they marched onto the street.

"Gotham will survive until Bane blows it up." Selina crossed her arms.

"They didn't get Gordon."

"What good will that do? He just resigned."

Bruce released her hips and pulled his arm across his chest. "Don't, just don't."

"Dent tried to kill Gordon's son. You stopped him, didn't you?"

He turned his head away from the television screen, but focused on the rocky ceiling above. "Yes, but he had already killed the two police officers guarding him at the hospital, Detective Wuertz, Sal Maroni, Maroni's bodyguard, and Maroni's chauffeur. Gordon and I are the only ones who remember those six men."

"Well, it's so modest compared to the Joker's spree from the same time."

"Don't," Bruce's voice dropped closer to a growl.

"No guns, no killing," she snapped back at him. "How could you cover up six murders and the attempted murder of a child?"

He closed his eyes. "It was my fault."

"How can you believe that?"

"Dent loved Rachel. The Joker killed her, worked on Dent's mind when Dent's mental state had him refusing medical care, and Dent went after everyone responsible for her death. If I had kept her safe, none of it would have happened. I had to take the blame, so the good Dent did, his legacy, would survive him. I owed him that much."

"You loved Rachel too," she said softly. He flinched before he stopped himself. "So you punished yourself by destroying your legacy."

"What legacy?" he countered. "I have never mattered. The last and worthless Wayne living off everything better ancestors created. The one thing I could do was stand between the good people of Gotham and the evil that preyed on them, and now I can't even do that. I can't even stand with Gordon while he takes the blame for my idea." He flung his arm at the television screen, and then sucked in air at the pain he caused himself. "I matter even less now."

So what was she to him, and did it even matter when there was no way in hell she could make up for losing Rachel the love goddess? She shouldn't even care, since thinking he was worthy enough for a rescue didn't even register. So maybe she needed to impress him with an actual rescue. She got up without uttering one single sarcastic word over his bullshit reasoning. The magnetic lock was suddenly interesting.

The lock was welded to the door frame of the gate. A pipe was welded around the power supply and it was welded to the cage frame above. All the seams where something could be potentially wedged in had been welded together. Not that disrupting the power supply would unlock the door, but all the welds meant she couldn't rig up a way to electrocute Barsad. Now that was a pity. 

The key to the lock was a slender, ten-button keypad screwed onto the door frame. She recognized the cheap brand: enter the right five digit code and it released the lock. The code breaker in her belt could break the one hundred thousand combinations in a few seconds. Too bad her belt had been taken as a trophy.

Since conversation with Bruce just upset them both, she had nothing but time to kill. She pressed the one button five times. The lock didn't buzz. She repeated the action with the two button. No buzz. At least she was facing the tunnel and saw Barsad walk silently to the cage. The whole damn group of them needed bells tied to their shoes.

"What are you doing, Traitor's Whore?" Barsad said when he reached the cage.

She batted her eyes at him. "Just admiring your security features. I thought a silent alarm would be too advanced for whatever third-world nation you guys hail from."

"Leave it alone, Whore."

"My name is Selina, Ms. Kyle if you're nasty, which you are, Barsad." He blinked at her. "I get bored easy and you won't let us change the channel." She pressed the same key five times, now she was up to number six.

Barsad frowned as he punched in the code with a minimum of hand movement so she couldn't figure it out. She backed up to the cage's midpoint, and he followed after the gate's lock engaged once it swung shut. "And just how bored will you be if I tie you up again, Whore?"

Selina stepped closer with a hip cocked to one side. "Kinky bastard, aren't you?" Barsad's whole body stiffened. "So what did you do to piss Bane off to get stuck down here with us?"

"It is a great honor to guard the Traitor, but what would a thieving whore know about honor?"

She smirked. "Just enough to feel sorrier for what the guy on the real shit list must have ended up with if this is the reward for a job well done." Barsad swung his fist, but she ducked under it and straightened leaning one hand on his chest and the other on his hip. "What skill it must take to guard a mere woman and a man who can't move."

He gritted his teeth, stepped back, and backhanded her across the face. She dropped to the cot, but Bruce caught her shoulders before she face-planted on his chest. She pushed her hands under his shoulders as he pulled her down into a hug and snarled at Barsad. "Battering defenseless women; how the mighty League of Shadows has fallen."

"Keep your judgment, you worthless traitor!" The gate buzzed for him and he slammed it so hard the cage shook and small rocks rolled down the slide.

"It sounds like a big, fat lie when he says it," Bruce said.

Selina turned her head. Barsad was already beyond the bend in the tunnel. She frowned down at Bruce. "Defenseless?"

"Like that isn't what you want him to think."

She felt her smirk melt into a smile when his hazel eyes glittered. "What did I end up with?" She pulled her hands out from under his back and held up an unsheathed Ka-Bar survival knife. "Did I cut you?"

He rolled his head from side to side. "Hide it quick."

She turned to the rock slide eating up their space. The fencing was tore off the dented horizontal support pole before the metal vanished between the boulders and rocks. A third of the solid rock wall joined the rock slide, but all the puzzle pieces looked jammed together. And they didn't have a movie poster of Rita Hayward to paper over the hole. Plus Barsad would check the rocks first thing. 

The metal table top was a solid slab as wide as the hilt guard of the knife and set against the chain-link fencing. She pushed on the fencing. It gave enough, and she wove the long blade through the diamond-shaped links. When she let go of the fencing, it pressed the knife against the table and out of sight.

She returned to the cot and brushed off her knees when she sat down. "Do I need to keep it out of your reach?"

He frowned, but his eyes focused past her as something slid into place for him. "That's why Alfred didn't tell me what Rachel had decided." She opened her mouth to not apologize for hinting that he was suicidal, but he continued. "No wonder he accused me of just waiting for things to go bad and suicide via Batman was what I really wanted. He was right, up to a point. What good is Bruce Wayne to Gotham? Batman has a purpose, and things are too bad for me to take that way out. Not when so many will suffer for it."

"Okay, I believe that. I wish your reason was more selfish, but I believe you."

"I'm selfish." He reached up and cupped her cheek that Barsad didn't slap. His expression shifted between adoration in his eyes and bared teeth. "I want to pound Barsad until all he knows is pain for hurting you."

"That's your idea of selfishness?" She leaned into his caress. "You want that for me, and it's sweet enough that I might leave you some of Barsad after I'm done making him whimper like a dog."

"You should be prying the lock apart right now to get out but I want you with me."

"Now that's selfish, but I'm not leaving without you." She kissed the palm of his hand. "Besides, I don't want to do that until I figure out all the alarms. Expecting overkill from your playmates."

"Playmates?"

"They've renamed you traitor. Obviously there is history."

He grimaced. "You hadn't asked about that."

"You still owe me disclosure. And no, showing me your toys is not the same as telling me."

They both heard the running feet down the tunnel. Bruce dropped his hand as Barsad jerked open the gate. "You thieving whore! Where is my knife?" He grabbed her hair and yanked her from the cot.

Bruce wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled back. Barsad seized her arm with his other hand and heaved her toward the rock slide. Bruce screamed as he tumbled off the cot. He let her go to catch himself, but still collapsed.

Selina landed back first on the sharp pebbles scattered across the floor. Barsad yanked her wrists against the fencing between the rock slide and the port-a-potty toilet, and tied them together with a zip tie. She shifted her wrists to give herself slack and rammed her knee into his thigh. He knelt and trapped her legs between his knees. "Where is my knife?" He shoved the baggy grey T-shirt over her breasts as his hands slid over her skin.

"Maybe you left it in your other pants!" His knuckles collided with her cheekbone again. Nobody liked her sarcasm today.

While she was dazed from that blow, Barsad moved off of her. He kicked over the cot. Bruce swung a fist in his direction, but Barsad shifted out of the path as he patted down Bruce's legs. Bruce hit him when he moved back up his body. Barsad snorted as the punch didn't even rock his body. "You are so weak. You cannot even protect your whore without your mask. What did Ra's al Ghul ever see in you?" He drew his arm back and knocked Bruce's head against the floor.

"Leave him alone!" Selina screamed.

Barsad sneered at her, and then pulled Bruce until he lay perpendicular at her feet and on his side. While Bruce screamed out the pain racking his body, Barsad grabbed her legs. "Where's my knife, whore?"

"Go to hell, you fanatical bastard!"

He let go of her left leg to unbutton his pants. She drew up her knee and hammered her heel into his pectoral muscle. That unbalanced him enough for her to sweep him. He landed on the rock slide. She drew both her knees against her stomach to kick again. He brushed himself off as he stood. "Stay like that, whore. A hungry belly will make you submit."

Selina didn't relax her legs until Barsad disappeared down the tunnel. "Like I've never dieted before, asshole." She twisted her wrists and bit down on her lip when the zip tie pushed into her bruises.

Bruce gasped for air. "Selina?"

"I'm fine, just--" Her elbows flapped against her ears. "It'll take longer than I thought to get loose. Just wait." Her eyes watered as she pushed her hands apart.

"Don't hurt yourself." He rolled onto his stomach with a grunt that almost became a cry.

She craned her neck to look at him. "Same to you."

"Pain can be put in its place." He raised his upper body onto his forearms. He closed his eyes in concentration, and pulled himself in line with her using deliberate movements and controlled breathing. "Pain does not work for you, you work through pain." His lower body nestled against hers as he reached up and grabbed the fencing. He focused his now open eyes on her wrists.

Selina drew her jaw back up. "How did you?"

"Something I learned in India." He inhaled deeply before grabbing the plastic zip tie and pulling on it. That gave her another centimeter to pull one hand free without cutting into her wrist. "Harder to do with a concussion." He looked down at her face as she pulled her other hand out. Blood from his reopened forehead cut oozed into his eyebrow. He let go of the zip tie and latched all his fingers through the fencing. A tremor ran through his bicep. "You should move before I collapse."

She pushed up and captured his lips. "Just so you understand it's not you, it's the rocks merging with me."

He lowered himself onto his chest after she slid out from under him. He licked his lips. "Do you think you can take down Barsad? Honestly."

"Without my boots or any other weapons? He'll win. Hell, one of his larger buddies got the drop on me and I was dressed for a fight." She dragged the cot beside him. "Let me know when you're ready."

She didn't topple over this time putting him back on the cot and managed to drag it back where he could watch the television after he turned down her offer not to. Bruce watched her as she cleaned his cut again. "I want you to run."

"You know what Daggett told me when I said I wanted the CleanSlate? Want doesn't get. Stop making that dead asshole right." He frowned. "I'm looking for a successful way out, okay? For both of us."

"Okay," he said with a sigh. "Lay down with me?"

She put the water bottle and bandanna rag on the table, picked up the blanket, and lay down beside him. His arm curled around her and pulled her closer so her head rested on his shoulder. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't." He stroked her arm. "Everyone in Gotham knows about my parents. Fourteen years after that, the D.A.'s office gave their murderer, Joe Chill, early parole in exchange for his testimony on Carmine Falcone. I came home from Princeton to kill Chill, only Falcone saved me from myself by killing him first. Then after a fight with Rachel, I decided to follow Falcone's dubious advice to find a place in the world where I wasn't known and learn about criminals."

Selina caressed his chest as he let the rest of his biography tumble out until the truth behind the Narrows Riots. She stopped the disclosure there by bracing herself over him and kissing him. He looked up at her, confusion furrowing his brow. "That explains so much. They're terrified of you. For good reason, you took out the mercenary they've built a cult around."

"Ra's al Ghul destroyed himself. I just made sure his plan didn't destroy Gotham. Too many innocent lives were at stake." He frowned like he was positive she missed the point.

"That's not how they see it." She kissed him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The trick Bruce learned in India featured in the "Working Through Pain" segment of _Batman: Gotham Knight_. The animated movie was produced by Bruce Timm and Emma Thomas, and the six interlocking stories were written by David Goyer, Josh Olson, and Alan Burnett and is set in the year between _Batman Begins_ and _the Dark Knight_. Each segment is directed by a different anime director and Kevin Conroy voices Bruce, so it may give you a slight disconnect if you followed the _Batman Animated Series_ as hard as I did. Anyway, _Gotham Knight_ is canon in my Nolanverse, and I thought this chapter was a perfect place to call back to it. The India trip falls before he joins up with the Bhutan gang of criminals and gets imprisoned.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

  


### Occupation of Gotham City: Day 15

"My father's down there! You have to let me help!" an officer's son yelled.

Gordon held back a sigh at the green eyes brimming with tears. Jimmy would have reacted the same way when he was this boy's age. But it was drawing attention of the other people in the basement storeroom who had volunteered. "I'm sure your mother needs you at home."

Chuck Dixon scowled. "She's got my big sister. Let me help."

"He can be on my team, Commissioner." Before Gordon said anything, Blake knelt next to Dixon. "Where do you live?"

"Bayside," the black-haired boy answered sullenly.

"Great, I don't have anyone there." Blake pulled a small notepad out of his coat. "The detectives can't patrol, all those criminals from Blackgate know they're cops, but they won't suspect kids. So patrol Bayside, watch for Bane's soldiers doing anything, take notes, don't let them notice you. Think you can handle that?"

Dixon nodded. "I can do that."

Blake slapped the notepad into his small hand. "I'll get an update from you once a week." He pulled out a box of chalk. "Do you know how to make the Bat symbol?" Dixon nodded and accepted the stick of chalk. "Draw it all over Bayside, but don't let anyone see you do it."

"Why?"

"To show Bane Gotham doesn't belong to him." The twelve-year-old accepted the logic of that and went across the basement to collect MREs from Gerry Conway, retired GCPD officer and owner of the grocery store they were meeting under.

Blake stood up and faced Gordon. "Talked to the Fire Commissioner. He says he's too busy stopping the damn anarchy idiots from burning down the city, but if we need medical attention get ourselves to a firehouse."

"That's better than nothing," Gordon said.

Blake shoved his hands into his pockets. "If you get any more minors, I'll take 'em. We need all the eyes we can get."

"Yes, that is a good idea, Blake."

"Sherlock Holmes had it first." He shrugged. "Any other messages to get out?"

Gordon shook his head. "We need to find out where they're holding their prisoners." He hated to send Blake on these scouting missions so close to Bane's men, but he was one of the few personnel he had with an unrecognizable face. And he didn't have any family to risk, unlike so many other recruits.

"I'll get right on that, sir." Blake stepped around Stephens with a nod, grabbed a bag of MREs from Chuck Dixon, and accompanied the young boy out of the basement store room.

Stephens set a Styrofoam cup of coffee beside the map stretched across the table next to Gordon. "Blake can't stay in one place, can he?"

"He would stay here if I wasn't." He met Stephens' narrowed eyes. "The truth about Harvey Dent, which doesn't seem to have fazed any veterans of MCU, hit him hard."

Stephens grimaced slightly. "We figured it was something you and Bats cooked up to keep Dent's indictment from falling apart and putting those mobsters back on the streets. And I confirmed it by talking to Ramirez after you made her resign the force."

Gordon's teeth ground together. "You investigated me, Gerard?"

"Your marriage was imploding, Jim."

He picked up the coffee cup and stared into the brown liquid. "Barbara accepted the lies to keep the trial moving forward. She even accepted what I said at the funeral. But when the politicians got involved, passing the Dent Act, turning the day he died into a holiday--" He sipped the scalding drink. "She couldn't take that."

"Nice to have the reason why you fought the Dent Act so hard confirmed." Stephens pulled a nearby stool under his butt.

"I wasn't the only one fighting it." Gordon hadn't expected Bruce Wayne at a private meeting with the Mayor and the City Council. Garcia had a marble-teeth smile for the somber man in a black suit. "Mr. Wayne, I thought you--out of all the citizens of Gotham--would support this Act. After all, Harvey was your friend."

"I'm here for Rachel Dawes, the other murdered member of the District Attorney's office who you are forgetting about in this indecent rush to capitalize off their deaths. She was my oldest friend. This Act you are proposing is a travesty of the justice system she believed in."

One of the Council members spoke up. "With all due respect to your loss, Mr. Wayne, but the Dent Act finally closes loopholes that allowed criminals freedom to do what they pleased on our city streets."

"Any convicted felon with any organized crime activities on his or her record shall be denied parole." Wayne's icy glare swept over the room. "Parole isn't a loophole; it's rehabilitation."

"We covered those statistics in the public debates over the Dent Act, Mr. Wayne," Garcia smoothly interjected. "Yes, it increases the population of Blackgate Prison for years, but no one will be able to fill the gangland power vacuum left by the Joker's murder spree."

"In fact, it would be irresponsible of us not to protect the citizens of Gotham for the civil liberties of murderers and rapists." The Councilman gulped when Wayne stared at him.

"And it's all a moot point. The Dent Act was signed into law yesterday," Garcia added.

The scrape of the stool on the concrete floor pulled Gordon to the present. "I'm glad you didn't lose your job over it, Commissioner. Blake's young; he'll get over it. Now where are we going to get equipment from since Bane's Army borrowed our armory?"

Gordon pushed aside the unhappy past and focused on securing a future for the city.

* * *

Blake knocked on the upper door of the row house and tensed his arm not to pound on it. The joyriding Blackgate Boys were just two blocks up the street. He shuffled the paper bag to his other arm. No need to give those felons an excuse to come investigate. His free hand patted down his pockets for a key. He heard someone on the other side of the door, and he smiled sheepishly at the peephole.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed, John Blake?" Yolanda Ross' pinched her thick lips closed as she shut and locked the door behind him. "You're not blind and you know curfew starts at sundown."

"The food line took longer than expected after I checked on the Dixon family in Bayside." Blake carried the grocery bag of MREs into the kitchen.

"You didn't have to do that. We've got plenty of food." Yolanda trailed after him.

"For now, but nobody knows how long this will last." He stacked the MRE packages on the kitchen table until Yolanda took them to the pantry. "I got a message relay set up with Tyler. He's fine, along with three thousand other cops down there."

"Thank God," she exhaled. She paused before shoving the stack of MREs onto the top shelf. "They're getting food and water?"

"So far. Bane wants to look like a reasonable warlord." Blake reached the bottom of the bag, and held up the waxed paper tub. "Strawberry ice cream for the birthday girl."

"I don't want to know what you did to get that." Yolanda laughed, sounding more like herself. "I don't think Tara will change her mind, even for strawberry ice cream."

"If there was any way I could get Tyler out of there--"

"We know, John." She hugged him tightly. "Don't you dare blame yourself for this madness. Now set the table."

Blake tried hard to follow Yolanda's advice during supper. It was Bane's fault his old partner hadn't been with his family for two weeks; he knew that. But it was hard not to give into the guilt when a five-year-old refused her birthday party again because Bane hadn't let her daddy out yet.

He finished wiping the skillet dry when Yolanda staggered back down the stairs. "You're up, Uncle John. She wants a bedtime story from you."

"Only because she hasn't had a bedtime story from me."

"Do you think that gets Tyler off the hook?"

Blake headed upstairs and knocked on Tara's bedroom door. "You need a bedtime story?"

Tara sat up in her pink and white bed. "Yes, Uncle John! Not those," she added when he stopped at her bookshelf. "I want one nobody else knows."

He sat on the edge of the bed. The dusky-skinned little girl laid her straight black hair on her pillow. She has her father's eyes, Blake realized as he adjusted the nightlight on her bedside table to not shine in them. "I haven't had much practice with bedtime stories, so go easy on me."

"Sure, you start with once upon a time."

"Once upon a time, a kingdom was falling apart. An evil man with lots of money wanted to rule the kingdom, so he hired men to scare and to steal from the citizens of the kingdom. Everybody knew who caused the bad things, but they were too scared of being beat up or worse by Falcon, Duke Falcon's men."

"Why didn't the King stop him?"

"The King didn't know which of his knights were loyal and which ones were paid to ignore Duke Falcon's men. Without knights he could count on, he was helpless in his castle."

"So nobody could stop Duke Falcon?" Tara's brown eyes widened.

"That's what it looked like to everyone in the kingdom. But one man decided that he would stop Duke Falcon's takeover, so he put on black armor and a helmet that hid his face. He chose his battle carefully, and attacked a group of Falcon's men. Falcon watched as this new knight beat all the men he had. He started to run, but the new knight caught him. And everyone in the city called the new knight, the Dark Knight."

"Cause his armor was black?"

"Yeah. The King locked Duke Falcon in a dungeon, but Falcon still had people working for him. They sent word to a powerful sorcerer that Falcon needed his help. The sorcerer wanted to destroy the kingdom, so he pretended that he would help Falcon become king."

"Duke Falcon wasn't very smart."

"No, he wasn't. The sorcerer used Falcon's men to scatter parts of his magic spell all over the kingdom. They worked out of a tower in the most dangerous neighborhood of the kingdom. They didn't think anyone knew what they were up to, but the Dark Knight was watching them. He didn't know what the sorcerer had planned, but he knew Falcon's men were up to something bad. So he watched to see what it was and that's when the kid found him."

"Kid?"

"Let's call him Robin. Robin lived with his cousin and his cousin's wife because his parents were dead. They fought all the time and Robin stayed outside as much as possible to avoid the yelling. One rainy night, he went outside and found the Dark Knight watching Falcon's men."

"So the Dark Knight took Robin away from his nasty cousin and trained him to be a knight too?" Tara clapped her hands.

Blake looked at her nightlight. "No, but he did give Robin his fancy spyglass before battling Falcon's men. Anyway, the sorcerer entered the kingdom and started casting his spell in Robin's neighborhood. A mist exploded out of the ground and everyone who breathed it saw monsters everywhere. But really the monsters were other people."

"So people fighting monsters were really fighting other people. He was a very mean sorcerer."

"Yes, he was, but he didn't realize that three people were immune to his spell: the Dark Knight--"

"D'uh."

"One of the king's knights who was a friend of the Dark Knight, and the… king's daughter."

"What was she doing there?"

"She was checking on the dungeon in the neighborhood. The sorcerer engineered an escape of all the prisoners including Duke Falcon. But it was a good thing she was there because she found Robin wandering the streets right before the mist exploded all over them."

Tara yawned. "The Princess kept Robin safe?"

"Yeah, she used a magic spell to chase away a scarecrow monster on a fire-breathing horse." Blake looked down at a skeptical face. "At least that's what Robin saw. But the Princess didn't have any more spells, so they had to run away from the other people-monsters. Robin wasn't much help since he had been affected by the mist, but he kept telling the Princess that the Dark Knight would save them."

"I hope so."

"The Princess took the wrong alley shortcut and the people-monsters surrounded her and Robin. The Dark Knight dropped down from the roof, grabbed them both, and pulled them up to the roof using a rope. He made sure they were safe and then ran after the sorcerer. The sorcerer climbed onto his dragon so he could cast his spell all over the kingdom. The Dark Knight caught the flying dragon with his rope, climbed up, and fought the sorcerer on its back high above the kingdom. While he kept the sorcerer distracted, the king's knight not affected by the mist shot an arrow at the dragon. The dragon fell out of the sky. The Dark Knight jumped clear, but the sorcerer and the dragon blew up when they hit the ground."

"Blew up?"

"Fire breathing dragons are prone to explosions. And that's how the kingdom was saved from Duke Falcon."

"Pretty good story, Uncle John, but the princess needs to show up earlier." Tara rolled over onto her side.

"I'll remember that. Good-night," Blake stepped into the hall.

"Batman's coming back, right?"

"I'm looking for him." It would be a lot easier if Bane hadn't made barricades and posted guards at the Wayne Enterprises building or if Blake could find Lucius Fox. "Batman loves surprises. As soon as Bane doesn't expect him, that's when we'll see him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, there will be time jumps. While I'm sure I could fill up each day before the bomb goes off, it would end up being tedious. So like the movie, I'm concentrating on the highlights, but hopefully more clear than the movie's jumps.
> 
> The novelization has Tyler Ross (Blake's partner played by Reggie Lee) think about his wife Yolanda and Tara their daughter's upcoming birthday while searching the sewers. So I thought it only made sense that Blake would be looking after them like he looks after Father Reilly and the boys at St. Swithin's.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

  


### Occupation of Gotham City: Day 20

_So nice of the people still running GCN to provide that count at the bottom of the screen so you never forget how long it has been,_ Bruce thought bitterly. Ever since Selina took Barsad's knife from him, Barsad refused to come inside the cage and brought an automatic rifle with him when he delivered their meal for the day. Bruce had no doubt that the man trusted by Bane to guard them would shoot Selina if she escaped. Selina must have thought so too, even though she didn't say why she stopped fiddling with the door lock and focused on the pile of rocks instead. They established a routine of sorts: sleep until Barsad delivered the MREs and water, taking care of Bruce's needs, followed by Selina's game of Tetris rocks, and exercising to stay strong enough to drag Bruce around. Since neither of them could escape the blaring television, watching it was unavoidable.

Selina used the knife to pry on a football-shaped rock about head level in the rock slide. Bruce didn't have the heart to tell her Barsad would thwart an exit through that mess as quickly as he would the clear tunnel, so he dropped his head and turned back to the television.

Mike Engle stood outside the Stock Exchange building. "Disturbing rumors have been swirling around Gotham City Stock Exchange," Engle explained to the camera. "People Bane's Army took are held as prisoners in the basement and their fates are being decided by tribunals held on the floor. We have been invited to bear witness to the truth."

The camera followed Engle and a rowdy crowd into the building and down the polished halls. They passed the main corridor and stairs leading to the main floor of the Exchange now blocked with barbed wire, chain-link fencing, and armed men. The crowd headed up the stairs and into a long room only lit by the floor-to-ceiling windows evenly spaced. Bleachers had been dragged to the outer wall. The crowd pushed onto these seats while the camera panned over the rest of the room. A much-abused, gold-upholstered chair sat at the end closest to the stairwells and the camera. The crowd unable to sit on the bleachers or holding guns lined up beside the camera and created a corridor between the chair and an arched alcove at the end of the room. The alcove was filled by a mountain built out of desks and stacks of paper.

A man in a tattered black robe with a fur-lined collar clambered up the desks and sat down at the apex desk. The camera focused on the figure. "Crane!" Bruce exclaimed at the same time Engle's voice confirmed, "That is Jonathan Crane, who took on the moniker Scarecrow when he pushed hallucinogenic drugs on the street."

Selina stopped chipping with the knife. "Wasn't he the guy in charge of Arkham who went nuts?"

"He was hired by the League of Shadows to create the fear toxin and put it in Gotham's water supply. No wonder they tapped him for this sideshow."

"At least he isn't wearing the burlap," Selina said. The chipping sound resumed.

Men with automatic rifles dragged a man from the second stairwell to the gold chair. They shoved him into it and stepped away. The camera panned and zoomed on Crane again, who looked up from the stack of papers on the desk. "Richard Daniel, this is your sentencing hearing."

The camera focused on Daniel sweating where he sat. "What's going on? You're not a judge!" Selina stopped chiseling again and padded closer on her sock-clad feet.

"And this isn't a trial because you are already guilty, Richard Daniel, vice-president of Gotham First National Bank. Guilty of hoarding money and repackaging debt as a commodity to be bought and sold. Guilty of foreclosing on people's homes when they could no longer afford the inflated prices you created." The crowd jeered and Crane banged a gavel until they quieted themselves. "This is your sentencing hearing. The choice is yours, exile or death?"

The crowd chanted for death while Daniel gaped. "What!" he yelled.

"Death then," Crane answered cheerfully. "Next!"

Engle pulled the camera to him while armed men dragged Daniel from the chair. "Summer, back to you."

The studio reappeared with Summer Gleeson talking to someone off camera. "We won't go to Vicky until Mike is out of there!"

"Exile?" Selina asked. "Bane giving people a way out of Gotham doesn't make any sense."

"He's having Crane lie to people to make them think they have hope." Bruce scowled.

Selina sighed and turned back to the rocks. She grunted as the football-shaped rock scraped the stone it rested amid and popped free. She caught it against her body.

"Okay, Vicky, you're live now." 

The screen shifted to the petite brunette on the roof of a building. "Following a tip that something is happening in West Chelsea Park, my cameraman and I approached it this morning. Armed guards at the gate turned us away. We found this vantage point that allows up to see into the park."

The camera moved from Vicky Vale's face and focused on the green space across the street. A yellow excavator was parked next to a long pit dug into the outfield of a baseball diamond. "As you can see, they dug a trench inside the park--wait. A truck is approaching."

A drab green transport truck they must have stolen from the National Guard armory parked next to the excavator. Armed men jumped out and encouraged their prisoners out of the truck.

"They're making them line up along the edge of the pit," Vicky narrated. "I see two uniformed police officers. Most everyone else looks like normal citizens." Bruce gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. The rest of the dozen looked like people dragged out of their homes on East Park Side.

Even at the distance they were at, the camera and Vicky's microphone picked up the gunfire as the line of bodies fell into the grave pit. The rock hit the concrete floor inside their cage.

"Oh my God, oh my God," Vicky stuttered into her microphone. "They shot them. They shot them!"

Selina sat beside him. Bruce plucked the knife from her trembling hands and hid it under the blanket. "They murdered those people?" Her face paled as she stared at the television.

She needed to focus on anything else. If Barsad came down the tunnel now, he would attack her. "How do you like your storm?" he blurted.

Her brown eyes looked down at his face. "What I wanted was the poor and hungry to demand that everyone get the same rules, not the Reign of Terror minus the guillotine!" Her cheeks flamed. "Who is still getting screwed in this farce? The poor who don't own a gun. All that has happened in the thugs Bane prefers are gorging themselves instead of the trust fund brigade." She jumped off the cot and marched to the table.

GCN had turned back to the studio and a pale Summer Gleeson. He looked at Selina instead. "Gotham's turning on itself. Even the Joker didn't manage that."

"Are you giving up on them?" She set the water bottle back on the table next to the unopened MRE. "The cops that stuck their necks out were killed. The mayor and the rest of the City Council are dead. For those who don't know how to fight, the safest thing to do is hide until someone tells them what to do."

"And they have no leader. The reactor is a time bomb, and I can't do anything!" He stopped himself from hitting the cot, but left his fingers curled up.

She sauntered back to the cot. "Do you think it's any better for me?" She pressed her lips together.

He uncurled his fist and held his hand out to her. She sat down beside him. He pulled her down against his chest. She tucked her head into his neck and didn't complain about his stubble. He rubbed her back.

"Hello?"

Selina jerked up and Bruce rolled his head back. A dirty brown hand extended out of the hole Selina had made in the rock pile. They both looked down the tunnel. No Barsad.

"I heard you talking. No need to clam up now."

Selina moved to the rock pile. "Keep it down. We have a guard. We don't need to spook his trigger-happy ass."

The woman withdrew her arm. "I'm Officer Renee Montoya out of the Fifty-Second Precinct with Officers Jensen and Kelly. Who are you and where are we?"

"We're prisoners of Bane left behind when he moved on up," Selina answered. A voice further behind the rocks said something Bruce couldn't make out. "We're in a cage. By the time we made a hole big enough to get through, he'll shoot us all."

"We have guns," Montoya's voice retorted.

"You could have the rest of the police force that's stuck under Downtown and it would still be too big of a risk." Selina took the MRE they hadn't eaten yet and stuffed the plastic bag through the hole. "Here, you guys probably need this."

Montoya pulled the MRE through. "I'd rather escape."

Selina rolled her eyes and looked back at Bruce. "I'd rather have a back doctor than a bunch of cops if we're playing if wishes were horses."

There was a scuffle behind the rocks, and then a young man's voice spoke. "What's wrong with your back?"

"It's not my back; it's my cellmate's. He can't move his legs or toes, but he feels touch and pressure."

"Sounds like one of his lumbar vertebrae is dislocated and putting enough pressure on the spinal cord to cause partial paralysis."

"Bane's medic said it was L3," Selina said. "How do you fix it?"

"Traction for eight weeks after you put the disc back in place."

Bruce looked up at the ceiling and let his neck muscles relax. The top bar of this cage would support his weight, but they needed a rope. He squeezed the blanket in his hands.

"How do you know this?" Selina asked.

You could hear the embarrassment from the other side. "My father is a chiropractor," he answered.

Bruce sliced the blanket with the knife. He ripped a thin strip from it.

"Keep heckling the rookie quietly, okay?" Selina walked back to the cot. "What are you doing?"

"Making rope." He tore another strip off the blanket. He glanced up at her raised eyebrows. "You can't hold me up for eight weeks of traction."

"I'm not a medical professional. Hell, I've never even pretending to be one for a con."

He tore off a third strip. "People are dying. I'm the out clause, the unexpected, the one who can do what must be done that no one else can. Gotham needs me." He tied the three strips together at one end and braided them. "Bane wants us to stew down here in helplessness. That stops now."

Selina hugged herself. "I hate it when you're right."

"That's the part of all this you hate?" He tied off the end of the braid.

"No, it just jumped up to first on the list." She walked back to the hole in the rock slide. "My cellmate wants to take the medical gamble and that will make our guard shit a brick. Can you guys behave so he doesn't shove a grenade in there with you?"

"He won't know we're here," Montoya said.

Selina rejoined Bruce at the cot and took the three new strips. He tore the rest of the blanket without commenting on her pinched expression. They finished braiding in silence and ended up with a rope about fifteen feet long.

After she hid the knife, she tied a loop in the rope. "Changed you mind yet?"

"No."

"What if I mess up your back even worse?"

He took the loop and pulled it around his chest and under his arms. "Don't worry, I'll still love you." His stomach clenched when he realized what he admitted and how very frozen she went.

Her walled-off face wouldn't betray anything, except he already knew her masks. "You shouldn't joke about that," she said.

He ran his hands up her arms and tugged her down into an embrace. "I wasn't," he said huskily. His mouth latched onto hers.

She returned the kiss just as hard. It ended but she didn't pull back as she stared into his eyes. "I'm here and I'm helping you. You know what that means?"

"Yes." He ran his fingertips down her cheek.

Her body shivered against his. "Let's do this before I change my mind." She pushed the cot against the fencing. She climbed up it to wrap the other end of the rope over the top pole.

Bruce held his breath as she dropped off the fence. The loop tightened under his arms and jerked him upright. Selina hauled on the rope. A cry seeped past his gritted teeth as he grabbed the rope and his legs hung uselessly. She pulled him higher and kicked the cot out of the way. He felt the rough concrete scrape the top of his feet before she inched him higher.

She tied the rope off while he gasped. Her hands slid against his sweaty back. Her lips pressed against his shoulder before she punched his lower back.

Pain ripped up his spine and he howled with it. It continued scrambling into his brain, and gave blackness in return.

* * *

Selina stumbled against the cot to look at Bruce's face when his scream died. He had passed out, but his pulse was still strong. She rubbed his stubble-covered jaw. "This better work."

She moved the cot further away when she heard Barsad's running feet. He approached the fencing with his finger on the trigger of his automatic rifle. "What is this?" He gestured at Bruce with the gun barrel.

She resisted the urge to step between Bruce and the gun. Barsad would just love that excuse. "He's pretending to be a piñata."

Barsad scowled. "Why did you tie him up?"

"He wanted me to. I guess his kink is into more equal time than yours."

Barsad's gaze roved over the cage while his scowl deepened. "Digging for a way out?"

"A rock fell out while we were watching the Judge Scarecrow show. I think all your boom-booms ruined the structural integrity--"

"Shut up, Whore." Barsad gestured with his rifle. "Lie down on your stomach."

She ignored the urge to flee and the urge to punch him in the face that followed it so rapidly they were almost the same urge. She followed his directions, but laid down facing the gate, and kept her head up.

He marched to the cot, pressed the gun barrel against her head, and dangled a zip tie in front of her nose. "Tie your arm to the cot's leg."

The cot's collapsible legs formed an X under the fabric mattress. She pressed her left thumb and forearm against the outside of the cot's leg. She wrapped the zip tie around the metal and her wrist and pulled it tight. Barsad tied down her right arm the same way before moving away. His boots crunched on the pebbles. Then his gun opened fire. Selina tried unsuccessfully to cover her ears with her shoulders. She hoped those cops took her warning seriously.

Barsad seized the hem of the T-shirt and ripped upwards. Both halves fluttered down on her sides. He pulled his belt free from his pants. "What is the Traitor planning?"

"It was either tie him up or listen to him bitch. Gee, I wonder why I went with option A."

The leather strap landed across her mid-back. Selina inhaled through her teeth. "What is he planning?" When she didn't answer, his belt hit across her shoulders. "Answer me, Whore!"

The belt stung across her ass. "You can't beat out of me what I don't know, you fanatical bastard! Would you like a dirty limerick?" He lashed across her back again. She gulped down air. "Let's skip to the end. I don't know what he's planning, you storm off in a huff, and then bring back a blanket so I don't catch pneumonia down here and spread it to him and you."

Barsad walked up to the gate and opened it. She watched him disappear down the tunnel. The whelps on her skin burned. Bruce had to stay in traction for eight weeks and he needed food and water. No matter how much she wanted to bash Barsad's face in--she ground her teeth together--she didn't know enough about the other end of the tunnel to risk Bruce's life. And now the lives of the cops, if Barsad hadn't killed them. 

She put her feet on the floor so she straddled the cot. With her weight off the fabric and aluminum, she lifted the front legs. The zip tie cut into her forearm, but she pushed her left arm down the slanted leg. The plastic finally slid down the metal and over the rubber foot. She lowered the cot, and straightened her legs on it again. She needed a rest before freeing her right arm.

Barsad returned before she freed her right arm--she expected him to make her sweat for at least an hour over the blanket--carrying a mass of black fabric. He dropped the fabric and it formed a velvety pool on the floor in front of her. He walked behind her again. "You must earn that blanket, Whore." He unzipped his pants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well everyone who skipped the Blake and Gordon centric chapter last update, I don't think it's spoilery to tell you that they have a big part to play in the rest of the story, so you will get more of them. A better tactic would be to tell me what you didn't like instead of nothing at all. And I was so proud of my reworking _Batman Begins_ into a fairy tale. Anyways, back to Bruce and Selina in this chapter. They already know you like them best; no need to make the other characters feel bad. ;)
> 
> Happy Halloween everyone!


	17. Chapter Sixteen

Selina inhaled through her gritted teeth when Barsad grabbed her thighs. Her free hand seized the black fabric and bundled it around her fist. She had one chance. He pulled her legs apart.

She threw the black fabric back at him and rocked the cot over. Barsad yelled as he hit the floor with a black-wrapped head. The cot landed on top of her. She slid her other arm free from the leg, shoved the cot aside, and rolled to her feet.

He wrapped his arms around her legs despite being blinded. Selina grabbed the fabric and punched him in the face with her other fist. He fell back, but swept her feet with his leg.

She pulled the fabric off his head as she fell to the floor. He lunged at her and she kicked up. Her heel slammed into his collarbone. The snap and his growling scream echoed in the tunnel. He fell back as he struggled to his feet.

Selina threw the black fabric toward the rock pile and slid into stance in front of it. "I'm not the warlord's daughter, you fanatical bastard!"

His left arm hung limply at his side. "You are nothing but the Traitor's whore."

She moved forward with a roundhouse kick. Barsad backpedaled out of its arc. "I'm Catwoman, and by the time I'm through scratching you, you won't ever forget it." She stalked forward. Her sneer exposed her teeth.

Barsad punched with his right hand. He caught the side of her head and the blow knocked her down. The buzz of the magnetic lock sounded. She looked up to see him slam the gate shut. "You stupid whore! I will shoot you for this."

"No, you're not." She picked up the black fabric and wrapped it around her body while he gaped. "Bane's not done with him and we both know you don't want to touch him. So you stay on that side of the fence and keep feeding us, and I won't try to cut your dick off. Deal?"

"I will snap your neck myself, Whore," he growled.

"As soon as Bane says you can, you kinky bastard you." She grinned at him. "Thanks for the blanket." He snarled inarticulately as he marched down the tunnel. She set the cot behind Bruce's dangling body. "Somehow, I feel you'd approve of being my shield. I'm not sure how I feel about taking that option."

She waited, and examined the fabric. It was light weight for a blanket and there were flexible wires running through it. She followed the wires and found the clasps to connect it to the armor and it was cut like a continuous set of wings. It was Batman's cape. She changed her nickname for Barsad from _kinky bastard_ to _sick fuck_. Coerce her into sex for Batman's cape; she should have kicked his nose into his brain pan.

Barsad didn't run back to the cage with his automatic rifle. She peered into the dark hole. "Are you alive in there?"

"Dios mío," Montoya exclaimed softly. "We're fine; no one got hit. Are you all right?"

"Looks like my unexpected resistance will not be punished today." Selina rubbed her hip. "Just bruised. Worth it for breaking that sick fuck's collarbone."

Montoya sucked in air. "Dios mío, no one has seen him since the Stock Exchange attack, and he would go after these terrorists. Your cellmate is Batman."

"He's not still mad at me, is he?" The young male cop asked faintly in the darkness.

Selina's mind whirled between how the female cop had figured it out and why the hell would Bruce be pissed at a cop. It almost proved a distraction from her overwhelming worry. She shook her head. "It's not fair to bring that up when he's passed out and can't decide if you should know or not."

"You're right, Catwoman," Montoya said. "It's not your secret to tell. But he's paralyzed…" Her voice trailed off like a lost child.

"You tracked down the footage from the Stock Exchange security cameras," the older male's voice said in the darkness. "That was Bane."

"Dios mío, what kind of monster are we dealing with?"

That Selina felt safe talking about. "They set us up with GCN as part of their torture package. Let me tell you what you've missed for the past couple of weeks."

* * *

Snow covered the streets of Gotham. The only vehicles that broke through the white powder were the convoys playing the shell game with the reactor bomb and Bane's men patrolling for victims. That led to nearly everyone in the city hunkering down behind locked doors, so John Blake was the lone pedestrian breaking up the snow on the sidewalks.

Blake knelt in the snow at the end of a car and set the gas can down beside him. He had already emptied its gas tank weeks ago. He double checked the note with the Commissioner's latest message to the troops was secure on the hook before lowering it via kite string into the storm drain. The line tugged after a few seconds and he rolled it back up, and stuffed it into his coat pocket while standing up again.

His meandering path to St. Swithin's in Colgate Heights let him peek at Wayne Enterprises building. Barbed wire stretched across the doors of the black skyscraper and armed men moved to keep warm behind it. He still hadn't spoken to Lucius Fox since the phone call before the executive was kidnapped. Bane had moved into City Hall with most of his men. Why was Bane still guarding this building? And Gotham needed Blake too much to risk his neck on a closer look.

He moved behind the National Guard jeep rolling down the street. None of the armed riders noticed him. He went through the unlocked doors of St. Swithin's Boys Home and up the flight of stairs to what had been a large classroom. Now it was filled with supplies, cots, and adults that had moved their families under the Church's protection.

Father Reilly met him as he entered. Blake handed him the gas can. "For the bus," he explained. "In case there's a chance to evacuate."

"Any news from the Commissioner?" the older man asked.

"The less you know, Father." Blake smiled tightly. He didn't want to talk about the Commissioner or endanger the man who had raised him. "How are the boys doing?" He glanced over where Mark and others had balanced a game of Scrabble on a cot.

"Well we've had more power on, so they get some T.V."

Blake nodded and clasped the man on the shoulder. "It's good to see you, Father."

He started to walk out, but Father Reilly's quiet voice called after him. "Blake, you be careful out there. They're hunting down cops like dogs." Blake nodded and left. St. Swithin's had plenty of supplies, and there was another stop he had to check on before turning in for curfew. 

The doors of the East Eighteenth Street Clinic opened with a bell jingle. He knocked the snow off his boots and frowned at the empty receptionist desk. The Clinic never had enough help during the best times. Right now, Dr. Thompkins was probably doing everything necessary to keep the clinic open on top of seeing patients.

The careworn doctor popped up at the receptionist's window and smiled. "John, in need of emergency care?"

"Just checking on you." Blake returned the smile. He had a warm spot for Dr. Leslie Thompkins ever since she fixed the arm he broke dropping off St. Swithin's fire escape.

Dr. Thompkins' smile widened. "I'm still the most popular gal at the party. Come around back. I'm finishing up with a patient, but I've stocked the break room with my tea collection. Help yourself." She vanished behind a door further down the hall when Blake pushed open the door out of the lobby.

The break room was directly behind the receptionist's office. She wasn't kidding about a tea collection. A few cellophane-covered boxes still had gift bows attached. Apparently, he wasn't the only one in Gotham bad at gift giving.

He had two mugs of hot water seeping with the strongest caffeinated blend when the front door jingled. He ducked into the receptionist's office and blanked his face when he saw the teenager clenching and unclenching the automatic rifle. The counter hid Blake's gun under his coat. "You need help?" Blake asked. Something about the kid's face poked at his memory.

The young man's hands tightened on the rifle. "I need to see Dr. Thompkins."

"She's with a patient. Is it an emergency?"

His head jerked from side to side. "Just need to talk."

Blake heard Dr. Thompkins in the hall outside the office. "I'm serious, Waylon. You light a fire to stay warm and you don't have proper ventilation for it, the carbon monoxide will make sure you don't wake up."

He moved to the hall door before they pushed through the swinging door into the lobby. All seven-feet of Waylon reared back and he smashed a fedora down on his head. Yellow eyes gleamed under the brim. "Armed kid in the lobby wants to talk to you, Doctor," Blake said.

"I hope I don't have to bring the gun lockers back." Dr. Thompkins shook her head before striding through the door. The bundled-up giant hurried after her, and Blake followed him. Dr. Thompkins stopped in front of the teenager. "Please put that away."

"Sorry, Doc Leslie." He flicked the safety on and pulled the strap until the rifle hung from his shoulder. "I just wanna talk."

Her stony face softened. "About what, young man?"

"Bane," his voice squeaked and he cleared his throat. "Bane doesn't know you're here. Us from the neighborhood, we're out to keep it that way."

"I appreciate that. Leave your guns at home if you need treatment."

He nodded and turned to leave when his identity clicked for Blake. "You're from St. Swithin's and you're running with Bane?"

"I'm making sure Father Reilly gets food!"

Blake shook his head. "I need to know about the people in the Dungeon."

"Why? They're dead; they just haven't stopped breathing yet."

"I'm looking for someone, Lucius Fox. He worked for Wayne Enterprises." Blake felt Dr. Thompkins' stare but didn't shift his gaze off the teenager. "Look, kid."

"Tony," he placed one hand on his rifle again.

"Tony, I don't want to get you in trouble with Bane, but I have to find Fox."

"I'd remember a name like that. And we don't have anyone who worked for Wayne Enterprises in the Dungeon. Now I gotta go."

Blake didn't protest as Tony left. Nobody from Wayne Enterprises had ended up in the Dungeon yet, why and how?

The giant who towered over everyone growled. "If I tore Bane's head off, I could get away from all this snow." He hunched his body further inside the insulated trench coat he wore.

"You're tough, Waylon," Dr. Thompkins said with a small smile, "but you're not bullet-proof. Go on home and stay warm safely."

"Sure thing, Doc. But if Bane gives you any trouble, I'll fix him." Waylon ducked under the doorjamb and his shoulder brushed the bell as she lumbered outside.

_It was a bad idea to send him after Bane. It really was,_ Blake repeated to himself.

Dr. Thompkins studied him. "Why are you looking for Lucius Fox?"

"You know Fox?" He held the swing door open for her.

"Ages ago, when Thomas, Thomas Wayne, was building his train. Lucius was his Chief Engineer or something. Now quit evading my question, John."

Blake handed her a mug of tea. "I was supposed to investigate a break-in for him before everything went to hell. Considering Bane kidnapped him, he probably knows a way to defuse the bomb they're driving around the city."

Her blue eyes dimmed. "If that's true, there's a strong possibility he's already dead, like that poor Dr. Pavel."

He swallowed down the tea without tasting it. "I can't give up. Do that and you might as well join with Bane or at least admit he has won. I can't." Both his hands tightened around the mug. "Someone has to protect the good people from monsters like Bane, Doc Leslie."

She rinsed her empty mug in the break room sink and set it on the drying mat. Her hand squeezed his shoulder. "Just be sure not to become the monster you are fighting."

"I have a better example to keep in mind."

"And don't you dare bring your fight here. I take my neutrality very seriously, young man."

The front door jangled again. "Aunt Leslie?" A male voice called out.

Blake trailed after Dr. Thompkins. The man yelling was older than Blake and wore a lab coat over two sweaters. "What's wrong, Matthew?" Dr. Thompkins asked.

"I got supplies from FEMA for you, since you won't consolidate at Gotham General." He gestured at a supply truck visible through the front window.

"I won't because when the Feds bray 'give us the really sick' loud enough; Bane's thugs will march through it and shoot everyone in a bed and everyone who tries to stop them." She shook her head. "My great-nephew, Dr. Matthew Thorne, John Blake." She pulled a bright pink knitted cap out of a pocket and tugged it over her gray hair. Her gloves went on next as she opened the front door.

Dr. Thorne shook his head. "Better help her before she scares the FEMA worker." Blake offered him a smirk before heading out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not a Rachel hater, but there is one scene between her and Bruce that always makes me grit my teeth and want to tear it to shreds: the slap in _Batman Begins_. And honestly, I could give her the slap if they hadn't given her the line "Your father would be ashamed of you." WTF?! Rachel is the same age as Bruce; she knows Thomas Wayne even less well than Bruce does. That line TOTALLY belonged to the character the Nolanverse movies left out: Dr. Leslie Thompkins. So here's my version portrayed by the same actress who did her voice in the _Batman: the Animated Series_ , Diana Muldaur. Obviously, she knows Thomas Wayne and Lucius Fox, but you'll have to wait to see why she wasn't a part of Bruce's childhood.
> 
> Matthew Thorne is the name the Crime Doctor, one of Batman's lesser known villains, and if they don't like me naming the funny doctor after a villain, they should have named him. :p


	18. Chapter Seventeen

  


### Occupation of Gotham City: Day 37

Jen caught her bottom lip between her teeth as the cell phone's robotic voice answered, "This phone number's inbox is full. Good-bye."

"Goddamn-it," she muttered and hung up her cell phone. She had filled Selina's voice mail the week after Bane crashed the first game of the football season and took over Gotham City. Selina had never returned any of the messages. She had reached a couple of people she trusted in Old Town, but no one had seen Selina. She had even used Cobblepott's resources and got Bruce Wayne's unlisted home number, but no one answered it either.

She didn't let that stop her from dialing it again and listening to it ring, ring, and ring. She hung up after ring number twenty. It was a humongous house, after all, and she would give them plenty of time to reach the phone.

GCN played silently on the built-in television on the dark wall of the home theater in this villa in Bogenhausen-Herzogpark. Jen shivered despite the central heating that worked so much better than the radiators in their walk-up back in Gotham. You didn't know it was winter outside until you looked out a window at the snow. She un-muted the flat screen. Summer Gleeson's make-up didn't hide her puffy and reddened eyes.

"We reported that the people sentenced to death by the tribunals are shot into mass graves in West Chelsea Park. At the time, no one knew what was happening to the prisoners who chose exile other than they were not crossing the barricades erected on Gotham Bridge. Our reporter Mike Engle discovered the answer. Welcome, Mike."

The blond man who Jen vaguely remembered from reruns of _Gotham Tonight_ nodded as the camera pulled back to show him sitting next to Summer. "Hello Summer. I wish it was better news. You know every winter, for as long as I can remember, officials have warned the citizens to stay off the iced rivers."

"Yes, and we have repeated that warning once the freezing started this year. The ice never thickens enough to support a person's weight the further one gets from shore."

"Right, so when we heard of groups of people trying to cross the East River under the Cavalry Bridge, we went out to find the story. Roll the footage."

Jen set the remote control down on the side table and moved to the end of the couch. She clasped her fingers together and planted her chin on them. Her skin goose pimpled under her wool-blend pants and silk blouse as the footage started moving down the slope of the frozen river's bank.

The bald man with a thin moustache raised his rifled as he intercepted the news crew. "You can't interfere. They picked exile."

"So they're free to leave Gotham?" Engle's voice asked beside the camera.

The man with the rifle shrugged. "Their stuff belongs to the people now. If they reach Bludhaven, they get their lives."

The camera focused on the men in business suits tiptoeing onto the ice. The white field stretched to the buildings on the other bank. The brick towers that supported the broken bridge caught snow piles against their feet. The dark suits of the shivering men didn't let them hide against all that white. None of the men were young enough to be Bruce Wayne; Jen exhaled the breath she had held.

The crack was so loud Jen thought one of the armed men had fired their gun. But the man at the left end of the line moving across the ice threw up his arms before he dropped straight down. She gasped and her fingers tangled over her mouth. A few of the men crossing ran, slipped, and the ice jumped up around them.

The door to the home theater room opened behind her. "There you are, Magpie."

Jen skipped the opportunity to protest that nickname. "Bane is making people walk across the ice!" She waved at the television as she turned to Oswald Cobblepott the Third.

The rotund man waddled closer with a frown. Jen turned back and watched the last man sink out of sight. "Good lord, has he ran out of space for the grave pits?"

The screen returned to the studio. Engle's shoulders drooped. "No one has made it to Bludhaven, and unless we have an Ice Age sudden freeze, no one will."

"Do you think Bane's Army would attack if the government met the exiles halfway across the river?" Summer's green eyes didn't meet the camera's stare despite her of-course-the-government-will-help tone.

"Judging by the men I met, I'd say yes, they would stop any attempt to help them."

The television clicked off. Oswald set the remote back on the side table. "I know your business hours are completed for the day."

She took a shaky breath as she searched her memory for what she worked on today. "The audit on Falcon's operation will take three days."

"No, no, I have an appointment with an associate at the symphony tonight, but I cannot attend a soiree alone. And Selina did not send you here for you to fret over the fate of Gotham City."

"I haven't heard from her at all! And Bane threatened to kill her." She looked down at the carpet under her feet.

He patted her shoulder. "If there is anyone more likely to survive this than your sister, I have not met them yet."

"I'd feel better if she'd call me."

"Of course." He cleared his throat after the maudlin display. "Come on, a night out will restore your confidence, Magpie." He ushered her to the door. "And you should wear black."

* * *

Lucius Fox looked out the window of the Gotham First National Bank building. One of the black cab and trailer trucks rolled down the street running toward the building, escorted by two Hummers. Where are they getting the gasoline to run three sets of these vehicles? And would it do any good to sabotage that?

His shoulders slumped. No one had seen or heard from Bruce in the month since this insurrection began. The city leaders were dead, imprisoned, or hiding. The federal government's hands were tied by the reactor bomb. Who could sabotage anything?

He turned from the window and looked at the desk he had covered with reams of note-filled papers. Taking over these offices on the top two floors meant no shortage of paper and ink. Whether there was a future for his mind exercises or not remained to be seen. But he couldn't find calming solace in theoretical tools if the man meant to use them was dead. Thinking that made his joints ache, so Fox left the office.

Jessica met him in the hallway that balconied over the lower floor. "Something's gone wrong with the boiler and Cheung had a break-down when Mr. Fredericks asked him to look at it, sir."

"A break-down?"

The young African-American woman nodded. "Kept shouting how he built software not hardware and started crying. We fed him a Benadryl and found him a quiet corner to lie down in. Alicia from Human Resources is with him."

"But the boiler is still broken," Fox said.

"Yes, sir," she passed him a heavy flashlight.

Fixing the boiler with Jessica's assistance was a useful distraction. It ran off steam, which distribution of hadn't been disrupted as badly as the electrical and subway system. The electricity flickered off as they climbed back up the stairwell. "We're in for another dark night," Fox said as he turned the flashlight back on.

Jessica sighed. "I know I should be grateful we've got heat and Bane's Army doesn't know where we are, but how much longer can this last?"

_One hundred thirteen days,_ he thought but didn't dare say aloud. He opened the door for the second to the top floor for her. "Get some rest. You've done a lot today."

"Hold the door!" Miranda's voice yelled up the stairwell. Multiple feet pounded up the concrete steps. A pair of interns rounded the landing carrying paper bags filled with MREs. They smiled sheepishly as they carried the bags inside.

Jessica shook her head at Fox's expression and followed the young men to the break room kitchen. Fox turned to the tired woman climbing up the last flight of stairs. "Ms. Tate." He took her bag.

"Mr. Fox," she said as they left the stairwell. "I don't know how they managed to run like that."

Fox lowered his voice. "We talked about this."

"And I considered your opinion when I went out disguised." She pulled the woolen knit cap off her head and shook her brown wavy hair. She tugged on the scarf around her neck. "I kept this wrapped around my mouth and nose."

"It's still too risky."

"We must have food."

Fox stopped and pulled Miranda into a branching hallway. "It shouldn't be you. Bane let us go, but we have no guarantee he'd do it again."

"Life has no guarantee, Lucius. The children can get food, but they wouldn't ask for news beyond what is shown on the television. The military is asking for resistance volunteers. Don't worry, I didn't volunteer." She smiled impishly.

Fox shook his head. "Miranda, it's not safe. For anyone."

"I know, but it reminds me of what I was a child and my family had nothing. My leap of faith freed my family then." She took back the bag of MREs. "Family always comes first. Don't worry."

He watched her stride down the balcony hallways still wrapped in her navy pea coat. Could he watch another young life sacrifice itself for Gotham?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this isn't a chapter of characters nobody else cares about. But there's just not that much happening underground when Bruce is passed-out with pain and the cops are digging out the other end of their tunnel.


	19. Chapter Eighteen

  


### Occupation of Gotham City: Day 55

Montoya sat in their camp built between the rock slide and solid rock where the light from the lamp in the cell beyond the rock slide poured through the hole. It gave enough light to read and write by, and she looked at the calendar of days she had scribbled on her ticket pad. They had been underground for over a month and past halfway through a second month. Kelly, Jensen, and she decided after a few days of rest once they reached this spot to dig out the tunnel back to the sewers behind them. Either they'd have a way out from the crazy jailer by the time Batman was well or they would rescue Batman. Catwoman's half-hearted protests noted.

Speaking of, Montoya stood up and listened at the hole in the rock slide. The retching echoed through it. Today made two weeks of puking every day. It wasn't food poisoning because they were all eating the same MREs, and no one else was ill. Especially Batman since Catwoman was sharing with him.

"It's chicken again," Catwoman said as the light vanished from the hole. "I'm wondering if it's a waste of time to ask Barsad if he was Hindu or something before joining Bane's cult." She pushed today's MRE through the hole.

Montoya pulled the plastic bag free. "Are you sure you want to piss him off in your condition?"

"He's been pretty good since our little chat, and I listened to his Dr. Phil rant, and all he brings us to eat is chicken. It deserves an explanation."

"But you're pregnant."

She could hear the other woman blink in surprise. "How did we get there from chicken MREs?" Catwoman asked, trying hard not to let her voice sound plaintive.

"You've been vomiting every day for two weeks. The chicken isn't making anyone else sick." The silence stretched between them, so Montoya offered another volley. "Jensen and Kelly are clearing rocks; they don't know." They worked in two-person teams while the third rested at the camp. They had already moved and reburied Mason's body, but still hadn't found Wilkes. Maybe he got out.

"Can we keep it that way?"

"If that's what you want."

"What I want is pen and paper to write down my complaint letter for my birth control failing so spectacularly. Dear Duramed, thanks for giving me another complication to an already complicated enough relationship or a genetic link with a sick fuck."

Montoya inhaled to quell her own nausea. "You don't know which one is the father?"

"A lifetime of being careful destroyed in twelve hours. Ain't that a great story for a baby scrapbook?"

"Neither one of them have noticed?"

Now the bitterness dropped from Catwoman's voice. "When I see Gordon I'm nominating you for his fast-track to detective program." The humor leeched away. "So far I haven't thrown up in front of Barsad when he drops the food and runs every morning. And Batman hasn't stayed awake long enough to notice."

What else could Montoya do? She had no abortion pills to offer her. Giving her a gun to shoot Barsad had already been rejected. "What's the latest on GCN?"

"They're replaying the plea from Congressman Gilly to release the ill and infirm before winter gets worse. No response from Bane yet."

Montoya snorted. "Bane won't agree to that."

"I'm more impressed that Gilly can actually use the word infirm in a sentence." Catwoman yawned. "Sorry to cut this short, but I need to lie down. If anything breaks, I'll let you know."

"Okay." She listened to Catwoman move away before sitting down and opening the MRE. She ate her share and felt guilty. Catwoman told them Barsad brought two MREs along with water daily and she shared one with Batman. The police officers didn't have to worry about water since they found a busted water pipe on their path here, but what if the baby wasn't getting enough calories to develop?

She shook her head. They had five adult to worry about now. The best way to help the baby would be to get the mother out.

Jensen crawled into the twilight-lit space. "I'm done. Kelly's waiting for you." He slid down the solid rock wall to the concrete floor.

Montoya passed the MRE to him. "Save some for Kelly." Jensen said something that sounded like a yes, so she took the flashlight and headed down their tunnel. She found Kelly shoving a rock against the tunnel wall. "Hey, we agreed this was a two person job. Less chance of getting smashed."

"Tired of waiting on you youngsters." Kelly stretched his back as he stood up. "Both of you should have more energy."

"You know Jensen is putting more time digging than both of us. And I'd rather be safe. I saw that rock climbing movie with James Franco." She turned off her flashlight and set it next to the one they used as a lantern. Then she went to the rock pile blocked the tunnel. One rock jerked loose and she passed it to Kelly.

Kelly hefted it against his chest. "So nothing new with Batman and Catwoman?"

She wasn't sure if it was a feminist sisterhood or just the fact that Catwoman asked her not to share the news that made the lie come out so easily. "Nope, not a thing."

* * *

### Occupation of Gotham City: Day 66

Blake jiggled the door handle before pulling out the lock-pick set Lieutenant Stephens had given him. He needed more practice with them, but hated how exposed it made him feel even though this basement parking garage shielded him for the bomb convoys and Blackgate Boys. The stairwell door handle depressed under his thumb. He pulled the door open, clicked on his flashlight, and headed up the trash-free stairs.

The roof of this skyscraper was too high and windy to make a useful vantage point. Maybe the top floor? They needed vantage points along this convoy's route and this bank building looked right down at the T-junction where the bomb truck made a turn. He continued up the stairs, planned out the order he needed to see his Irregulars in, thought about which bolt hole would be the closest on that map to crash in; thinking about anything to keep his mind off how many steps he had to go up.

Finally, he opened the last stairwell door. The floor was a marble balcony over the floor below. Groups of people with blankets and sleeping bags had set up their areas around fire barrels in this communal space and stared at the newcomer before screaming and running. Three men about his age rushed him, despite Blake throwing up his hands in surrender. "It's okay!" Blake shouted as they grabbed him. "I'm not here to hurt you. I'm a cop!"

"All the cops are underground!" One man squeezed Blake's left arm.

"He's got a gun," the one on his right who patted through his coat announced.

The yelling drew attention from more people. A brunette woman with confused grey eyes hurried from a branching hallway. "What is going on? Who is this?"

Before anyone answered her, a familiar brown-skinned man's lanky legs brought him around the corner of the balcony. "Detective Blake?"

Blake smirked, "I knew you weren't dead."

The brunette turned to Fox. "You know this man, Lucius?"

"Detective Blake and I had an appointment about Daggett's murder, but then Bane kidnapped us and took the reactor. You can let him go; he won't turn us over to Bane's Army." The men released Blake who tugged his coat back into place. "Detective Blake, this is Miranda Tate, current CEO of Wayne Enterprises."

"Ma'am," Blake nodded at her. "Reactor?"

Fox gestured for him to follow him. "We've got a lot to talk about."

Blake followed the older man into an office around the corner and down another branching hallway, and Miranda Tate shut the door behind them. He glanced at her before turning to Fox. "I guess we should start with why Bane kidnapped you and let you go?"

"Has Bruce been found yet?" Fox leaned against the front of the desk.

"No, if Wayne was in the Dungeon, the news would be all over the city." Fox's shoulders slumped. "Reactor?"

"Wayne Enterprises built a fusion reactor," Miranda's accented voice answered as she moved from the door. "Bane took us hostage to gain control of it and turned it into the bomb."

"A time bomb," Fox added.

Blake perched on the arm of the leather couch. "Because any day now the triggerman may press the button?"

Fox shook his head. "The reactor has two parts. The core's fuel cells degrade once it is removed from the rest of the reactor on top of Dr. Pavel's rigging to turn it into a bomb. In about eighty-four days, the core will explode regardless if the detonator is activated or not."

"And Bane's playing a damn shell game with it?" Blake pointed out the office window. "What the hell? Does Bane know that? He hasn't made any demands. What does he want?"

"You're asking for motives of a madman?" Miranda asked as she stood at the other end of the couch.

"Yes, I'm used to bad people having reasons for the bad things they do," Blake said. "And Bane knows exactly what he's doing, so what is he getting out of this?"

Fox spread his hands. "Bane threatened to kill us if we didn't cooperate and then he let us go to experience the next era of western civilization."

"We took the opportunity to gather up as many of our employees and their families and hide here," Miranda said.

"Good plan. So we need to put the parts of the reactor back together provided we can get it away from Bane." Blake rubbed his hands on his thighs. "Any ideas on how to do that?"

Fox shook his head. "We're just civilians," Miranda said. "We haven't been trained for this sort of thing."

"Then we're all in the same boat," Blake said. "I'll take this info back to the men with higher pay grades. Do your people need anything, food, medicine?"

"No," Miranda answered. "We have supplies."

Blake nodded as he stood. "Be careful out there, son," Fox told him.

"I'm always careful." And Blake was so careful with this information, it was nearly sundown when he reached Conway's store.

Gordon was alone, staring at the city map stretched over the table. Over the past couple of months, it had gotten easier to report to the Commissioner. He was ashamed that it took Lieutenant Stephens tagging along on one of Blake's Irregulars patrols to spell out facts of life eight years ago. Facts Blake didn't know about because he was an angry kid stuck in an orphanage who followed Batman news to escape his pain. And when Stephens was finished with the legal entanglements that Detective Blake hadn't had to deal with yet in his career, he pointed out that Gordon's wife and children left the city because of the Dent Day hoopla, and Gordon hadn't contested the divorce or custody arrangements. Blake hadn't missed that Gordon still wore his wedding ring. That conversation ended with Blake promising to let Dent go, which satisfied Stephens, and vowing to himself not to give Wayne the same self-righteous attitude if he ever saw him again.

He really wanted to see Wayne again, especially after what he just learned. Heck, he'd settle for Kyle. She'd know how to steal the core from under Bane's nose.

Gordon glanced at him and straightened his back. "Pile on the bad news, Blake."

"I might have other news." He slid a stool over to the north side of the table.

Gordon's mustache moved as he grimaced. "A Thanksgiving treat? Gotham's not getting good news this winter and I shudder to think what'll happen for Christmas."

"We won't blow up on Christmas, but Gotham will be ashes for Ash Wednesday."

Gordon's eyes pierced Blake through his dark-framed glasses. "You discovered the triggerman is anti-Catholic?"

"Worse, I found the Wayne Enterprises execs. Turns out Bane's bomb is the core of Wayne's mothballed energy reactor. Since Bane separated it from the rest of the reactor, it will blow up in eighty-four days. But if we reconnect it, then all we have to worry about is the triggerman. That's the good news."

"I mean this as nicely as possible, but you have a warped idea of what good news means."

Blake shrugged. Why everyone else thought he was a pessimist when he was such an optimist was the one mystery he couldn't solve. "The hard part will be getting the core away from Bane, but if we get the rest of the force out, we'll match Bane's Army and the Blackgate Boys."

"We need more manpower to break them loose." Gordon's gaze fell on the map where the three bomb trucks' routes were plotted out.

"You really think the Feds will send in the Army to deal with Bane?"

"Terrorism is supposed to be handled by the Feds, and Bane invaded the United States. I think it's time to find out if they're serious with the feelers they've had the delivery men announce." He tapped the map. "A FEMA shipment comes in tomorrow. Foley can make contact." He looked up with a smirk. "Besides, Morrison has no training on nuclear devices. I'm not ashamed to call in an expert."

"Mr. Fox knows the machine."

"We'll send some men over to protect them. Go get some food."

Blake got up with a nod and headed to the back basement room Ms. Conway had turned into a kitchen and a place to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had what I thought was an elegant idea when it came time to break down my scene outline into chapters: keep all the scenes in a chapter to the same day. And then I got to this chapter. Day 55 only had one scene outlined and it was the shortest scene I had typed up so far.
> 
> So I added the next chapter and that bumps the timeline up to Day 66 of the Occupation. Even though it's dealing with characters nobody likes, I hope you can find something to say about this chapter.


	20. Chapter Nineteen

  


### Occupation of Gotham City: Day 77

Bruce heard a familiar voice tut-tutting at him. Not Selina, not Barsad. "Did you not think I would return, Bruce?" Not Alfred, either. He lifted his head and Ra's al Ghul pushed himself off the metal table across the cell. "I told you I was immortal."

Ra's was unburnt and dressed in shades Bruce associated with his Ducard alias rather than the black-on-black suit from their last encounter. "I watched... I watched you die," Bruce whispered.

The mouth inside the trimmed Van Dyke beard smirked. "Oh, there are many forms of immortality." Bruce remembered their conversation at the campfire after his dip into the freezing lake water. Ra's had stared into the flames and admitted, "Once I had a wife, my great love. She was taken from me."

Bruce remembered the story Barsad told before he raped Selina. "You were the mercenary." Ra's nodded as he crouched down to Bruce's face. "Bane is your child, your heir."

"An heir to ensure the League of Shadows fulfills its duty to restore balance to civilization."

"No," Bruce whispered.

"You yourself fought the decadence of Gotham for years with all your strength, all your resources, all your moral authority, and the only victory you could achieve was a lie. Now you understand, Gotham is beyond saving--"

"No." His feet pushed against the floor.

Ra's continued as he faded from the cage. "And must be allowed to die."

"No!" Bruce screamed. He felt delicate fingers against his lips and blinked.

Selina's exhausted face swung into focus. "Your nightmares are getting worse."

"I..." His mouth barely wanted to work. "I woke you up."

"This is a good sign. Usually you lapse into la-la land after I interrupt one." She walked to the table still wearing her now-filthy socks, but with a black fabric wrapped around her like a sari. The next thing he realized was that his feet were flat against the cold concrete floor. He looked down. His calves, thighs, hamstrings, and gluts trembled with sudden use, but pain didn't flare up his back.

"Is Barsad coming?" He asked as he focused on his toes. They curled up and relaxed on command.

"He stopped checking on your screams six weeks ago. You missed his great rant on America the land of therapy and Dr. Phil should have dealt with your night terrors." She turned back with an open water bottle.

Bruce straightened his legs and pulled up the loop of rope from under his arms. His knees buckled as he clung to the rope while freeing himself. He listed backwards, and she darted forward but stopped when he grabbed the chain-link fencing and threw out his other hand.

"Do you hurt?" she whispered.

"No pain; I have to remember how to move." He let go of the rope and fence and stepped forward. He walked around the cage in reach of the fence and back wall in case he toppled over. He didn't and soon faced Selina again.

She sat on the cot, held the water bottle, and watched him. "You aren't using the trick you learned in India, are you?" He shook his head and tears welled up in her eyes. "Good, finally some good news."

"Don't cry," he blurted out. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, but was unsure if it would be a welcome gesture.

She wiped her face and waved his concern away. "I'm just tired." She handed him the bottle of water. "What now?"

He drained the bottle. "Get strong enough to beat Bane, and save the city from Ra's destruction." He passed the empty plastic to her before dropping into Plank pose for a push-up.

"Starting the Charles Atlas routine right now. You are nothing if not dedicated."

He glanced up at her worried and annoyed expression when he completed the first push-up. "We've wasted enough time down here." His eyes swept over the television screen and he glared at the day tracker of the crisis. "Ra's child has been in charge for two months too long." He channeled his rage into his arms and more push-ups.

"Ra's al Ghul's child?"

"Do you remember the story Barsad told us: the mercenary and the warlord's daughter?" Cold swept over his skin. He shouldn't have brought up her rape, but it was too late now.

Her voice didn't expose any pain. "Yes, and you were conked out and missed me showing him I was not the warlord's daughter."

He paused at the top of the push-up and looked at her again. The grey T-shirt she wore under the black fabric now had a ragged V-cut collar and he found the lump under the black that was a knot tying the shirt together like a halter top. The black wrapped around her was memory cloth. "What did he do?" Bruce asked through clenched teeth.

Selina ignored the question. "Ra's al Ghul was the mercenary and Bane is his kid, the one who climbed out of the prison pit in Barsad's story. That's what you think?"

"That's what I think. Now tell me what I missed starting with why you're wearing my cape."

She glared at him. "Bossy, I was trying to remember something else about Bane. Now that's gone." She rubbed her temple. "I'm wearing your cape because I'm cold and this is the easiest way to cover up."

His arms quivered even though he had only done thirty push-ups. He rested on his knees. "Did Barsad hurt you again?"

"The sick fuck wanted to. He thought I was secured to the cot, told me I had to earn a new blanket." Before Bruce's rage came out of his mouth, she leaned closer and grinned like the Cheshire Cat. "I broke his collarbone, got to keep the cape, and convinced him to stay on that side of the fence."

He grinned back at her as he wished he had seen her in action. "Good for you."

She tucked her hair behind her ear and her grin turned shyer. She gestured at the rock slide. "The cops figured out you're Batman and have been digging out the other end of their tunnel. The people exiled are sent to walk over the frozen East River, and nobody's made it across. I think that's everything."

"What name did you give the police officers?" He nodded in the direction of the rock slide.

"Catwoman; though to be fair, I told Barsad first, but I think it broke his brain."

"What little he has." Bruce shifted to sit on his gluts and rolled his back down to the floor. Still no pain.

"Need me to hold your feet?" Selina's expression mixed lust with a yearning, and reminded him of the Carlyle.

Maybe he wasn't the only one unsure of what was appropriate between them now. "Won't hurt."

He was right that she wanted tactile contract. She sat her thigh on his feet, leaned her body against his shins, wrapped her arms around his calves, and set her chin on his knee. He curled up for the crunch and brushed his nose against her cheek. Her hands squeezed his calves. "They left your knee brace," she noticed.

"No need to take it off if I can't walk." He completed another crunch.

She nodded but with a far away expression. He continued with the crunches without nuzzling her for attention. She blinked as she came back. "How can someone be in charge yet act like a flunkey?"

He paused against the floor. "You want to play with riddles now?"

"That's what's bothering me about Bane. You say he's Ra's kid and that's why these Ghulites are following him. And he's throwing his weight around when there's an audience." She waved her hand at the television. "But when you told him you sank all your toys, he acted just like a flunkey."

Bruce paused on the floor again. "What did he do?"

"Maybe I'm reading too much into it." She squirmed against his legs. "But he left, just like a flunkey does when I've thrown them a curve ball the boss didn't prepare them for. They always need a few minutes for a conference."

He performed a few more crunches while he tried to remember. That night was fuzzy with pain, fear, and rage. "Dealt with a lot of flunkeys?"

"Like I'm too stupid to figure out who really wants the shiny they sent me after. You were the first to hire me without a middleman in years." She shifted her head as he curled up and he stopped before their faces collided.

"I never delegate the important stuff," he whispered.

"Lucky me." She leaned into his lips. He couldn't hold the curl long enough to kiss her properly and curled down with a low groan. Her eyes widened. "Did that hurt?"

"No, that was frustration." He watched the flicker of her emotions across her face.

She finally blanked her face, but unlatched her arm and drew her fingers down his abs. He couldn't stop those muscles from fluttering even if he had wanted to. "One thing you haven't tested yet," she said.

"I wasn't about to bring it up."

Her big brown eyes glanced away. "I'm bringing it up. Medically speaking, I understand if you'd rather check it as a solo activity." Her bravado faltered and she tucked her arm around his legs again.

"It's better with you." His admission drew her eyes back to his face. He curled up again. "But only if you want--"

"I want you," she said. Bruce closed the gap between their lips this time and anchored his arm around her shoulders.

This kiss lasted longer though Selina broke away first and stood. Bruce accepted her hand up. She seized his hips and tagged on the waistband of the cotton drawstring pants. He untied them and let them drop to the floor. Medically speaking, the test was already a success. His erection strained toward her already and neither of them had touched his penis.

She unwrapped the memory cloth cape from her body, and then untied the ripped T-shirt acting like a bra. His hands replaced the fabric. She clamped her lips shut on her moan. He latched his lips onto her neck, remembering how much she had liked it before.

"No tease, no tease," she gasped out. Her fingers dug into his shoulders.

"Foreplay," he murmured into her neck.

"Not necessary." She pulled them both down to the cot. He grabbed the cape and tugged it over them. She wrapped a leg around his hip. "Please," she keened softly.

His fingers slid into the fold between her legs as he kissed down her breast. "You're dripping already." He looked up at her face.

She bucked against his hand. "Watching you work out is a turn on." She wrapped her arms around his back. "Do you need some help?"

He wiped her smirk away by sliding into her. Her fingers dug into his back as her head fell back. His mouth latched onto her collarbone. He slid out and in slowly, and held her leg up when it shifted off his hip. He ended the kiss on her skin before he bit her. "Every dream that wasn't a nightmare had you in it." He licked up her neck to her jaw.

Selina choked down another moan. Her fingers curled into his hair and tugged his head up. She started to say something, but gave up on it and kissed his mouth instead.

He worried that he would finish before her as he recognized his muscles tensing for orgasm. But she pulsed around him and moaned into his mouth. It triggered his. As they panted together, he stared down at her face. Deep circles surrounded her half-shut eyes, and he didn't care for the pallor of her skin. What had she been doing without to take care of him? He shifted to his side and pulled her to his chest. "Sleep. I'll keep watch."

Her eyes fluttered open. "I fell for that once. What stupid thing are you planning now?"

"Nothing stupid." He glanced down the tunnel. "I'll go back to the rope so Barsad doesn't suspect… does that count as stupid?"

"No, that's smart." She relaxed against him. "I'm sorry I'm so tired."

He kissed her forehead while he tucked the cape around her. "Nothing to be sorry for, Selina," he said softly so her name wouldn't carry. "I want to take care of you." He stroked her brown hair as her breathing evened out. This was a new, unfamiliar want. Protecting her was familiar, tied to how he wanted to protect Gotham and his outlet for his rage and pain. But protection wasn't enough. He wanted to see her lips grin and her eyes widen with joy. He wanted to make her scream with passion. He wanted her cradled in his arms but in a bigger, warmer bed.

He kissed the crown of her head. If she's let him, he would give her all those wants and make her life the easiest she had ever known. But first they had to deal with Bane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week is Thanksgiving here in the United States. I'm thankful for all the readers who haven't given up on this story and who leave comments.


	21. Chapter Twenty

  


### Occupation of Gotham City: Day 84

Selina wrapped the cape around herself as Bruce got off the cot. "I hate this plan."

"I know." He adjusted the drawstring pants around his hips. "It's not too late for a new one."

She scowled at him. They had been arguing about this plan for practically the whole week he had been mobile. If she was going to think of a better plan, she would have. She knotted the cape around her again as she looked at the floor. Her stomach rolled this morning. That would come in handy.

Strong fingers lifted her chin. He kissed her. "This is the best chance."

"I know." She watched him wrap the rope under his arms and go limp. Barsad's shadow loomed down the hall. Her stomach rolled again and she sprinted to the port-a-potty. She made it just in time to kneel over it and vomit. She felt worse that Bruce thought this was acting.

"Whore? What's wrong?" Selina finished vomiting and slumped down on the floor. "Whore!" She didn't move. The magnetic lock buzzed, the tray slid against the metal table, and Barsad loomed over her.

_Now._ She rolled to her back and kicked up and out. Her foot caught Barsad's stomach and sent him flying back. He landed against Bruce who embraced him with both arms.

Barsad twisted in the hold and slammed his left elbow into Bruce's side. Bruce's arms latched around Barsad's neck and head.

Selina moved closer, looking for an opening. The sling put his left arm over his chest. Barsad snarled as he kicked at her. She dodged it, but Bruce coiled his right leg over Barsad's legs. Barsad twisted, and then drove his hand into Bruce's braced knee. Bruce grunted with pain and tightened all his grips. Barsad rammed Bruce's knee again while twisting.

"Stop that!" Selina kicked Barsad again. Her heel plowed into his ribs under his right arm. They gave way with a loud snap. Both men twisted away from her blow thanks to the rope, but Barsad's face snarled at her until it went slack with another snapping noise. Her stomach rolled again.

Bruce dropped his leg and loosened his arms. Barsad's body fell to the floor.

Her stomach forced itself into her throat. No time to get to the port-a-potty. She turned away, dropped to her knees, and puked.

"Selina," Bruce said softly. She heaved until a wet rag touched the back of her neck. She straightened, still on her knees, into Bruce's arms. He pulled her away from the mess and stroked her hair. "It's over."

"We killed him!" She pressed against Bruce's chest instead of pushing him out of the way and tearing into Barsad until his blood covered the floor. Bruce had been so insistent on just incapacitating him.

Bruce's arms froze around her. "I broke his neck."

She shifted to look at his still face. "I broke his rib and twisted both of you." 

His hazel eyes darkened. "I--"

"No. I'm not sorry for what happened," she cupped his face, "but you are not taking the blame for this. We acted, we killed him."

He hugged her tighter, tucking her head against his neck. "He never should have touched you." His voice was ragged.

"I agree to that." She pressed her nose against his skin while his fingers stroked her hair and kept the wet rag on her neck. "Water?" He eased his hold enough to grab the water bottle and hand it to her. "We have to get moving."

Bruce nodded and helped her stand. She rinsed her mouth out while staring at the television. She should pay attention to know what to expect upstairs, but couldn't muster the focus. They had to get out of here. She turned to Bruce.

He had pulled the knife from its hiding place and took a ring of keys from Barsad's pocket before taking the dead man's leather belt. "These are for storage containers, aren't they?"

She looked at the dinky keys in his hand. "Best guess. Let me have the knife." She pried off the top of the keyboard lock, brushed off the numeral keys, and hotwired the lock. The magnetic lock buzzed as it released. Bruce pushed the gate open and then threaded the belt through the chain-link fencing and the metal bars. The gate swung against the buckled belt but remained open.

"Stay here," he ordered. She glared at him and slapped the hilt of the knife into his hand. He blinked at it. "I don't need this."

"Take it because I don't."

He nodded and moved silently down the tunnel. After he disappeared around the bend, she turned her attention to the table. The discarded wrapped from the crackers in the last MRE they had eaten would work. She shook the crumbs out of it.

She glanced down the empty tunnel before kneeling next to Barsad's head. Her fingers eased his eyelids closed. Unnecessary sentiment, but this was creepy enough without his dead eyes staring at her. She pinched some of his dark brown hair and yanked.

She examined the hairs as critically as she did gemstones. Several strands had hair follicles at the ends. She wrapped them up in the plastic and squeezed it in her fist. Then she drifted back to the table.

Bruce should know. She should open her mouth and blurt it out. What was she afraid of? If the baby wasn't his, he'd probably pay for the abortion if she couldn't. Not that her finances were in that bad of shape.

And if the baby was his, he would be ecstatic over fatherhood but try to hide it. And then he would make sure she was safe and cared for and fight Bane alone again. She hugged herself to ward off the chill that shook her. Not no, but hell no! If that was the only outcome, her lips were sealed until Bane was dealt with or she suddenly sprouted a basketball under her skin.

Bruce carried a box back with him. "I found all your equipment." He set the box on the table. "Plus I grabbed a coat that should fit." She lifted her belt and goggles out of the box and inspected them for any damage. Bruce lifted out the clothing he had scrounged for himself. She slipped the plastic and hair into an empty belt compartment as she set the belt on the table. He held out a small canister about two centimeters deep and wide. "Have any ideas what this was used for? Or recognize the chemical?"

She plucked it from his hand. The underside had a nozzle surrounded by a small depression for a latch to lock onto. It was empty when she shook it. "I don't even know how to pronounce that word." She blinked at the long chemical name stamped around the canister. "It probably held gas and it looks familiar, but I don't remember seeing anyone doing anything with it."

"I found a box of them, all empty." He set it down on the table and lifted the box filled with MRE packages. "Have you talked to them?" He jerked his head in the direction of the rock pile.

"Nope, this is your plan, remember?"

He raised his eyebrows at her, but took the box to the hole in the rocks. "Who's back there?" he asked in his growl.

"Jensen, sir," the young male's voice gulped. "Kelly and Montoya are at the other end of the tunnel. What's going on?"

"We're breaking out. It's possible someone may check in on Barsad, so don't dig out this way."

"You're going to leave us down here!" Selina paused as she tugged up the legs of her catsuit. The young man's distress carried through the wall.

Bruce pressed a hand against the stone not going anywhere. "I will come back for you," he growled. "As soon as I know I won't get you shot by Bane's Army. Now here come supplies." He stuffed the MREs into the hole.

She shook her head as she shrugged her arms into the sleeves. Sure he had taken the hard line about protecting their identities, but he caved to the kid's distress. She tugged on the zipper. It refused to meet over her stomach. "Shit."

"What's wrong?" Bruce stuffed the last MRE into the hole and dropped the box.

"They broke my zipper. At least the coat will cover it." She sat down on the cot to pull on her boots.

He didn't question it as he pulled on the worn jeans and knit shirt he had found close to his size. Her belt still fit, as did her gloves. The drab olive coat swallowed her, but no inappropriate flesh flashed after she zipped it closed. He shoved his feet into a pair of cracked military boots. "Ready?"

"You wouldn't believe how ready I am." She took his extended hand. They strolled down the tunnel and into the emptied command center. She blinked at the lack of all the cases that had been here. "Wow, talk about a clearance sale."

"The safest route is probably up through Applied Science." They circled around the waterfall and saw a rope ladder ascending to the hole blown through the ceiling above. "I'll go first."

She let him, even though she thought it was silly. Applied Science was as empty as she and Fox had left it, but Bane's men had wrenched the elevator door open. Bruce looked up the shaft with a scowl. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"I wish they had taken out their frustrations with me on just me and left my company out of it." He stepped away from the ledge.

"We'll find Fox and the others." She headed to the garage door. Bruce turned her to the corner next to it. He set his hand on the wall and the seam in the concrete broke apart. He pulled the human-sized slab out like a door. She shook her head and went through the door first.

The pathway down to the exit ramp was clear, despite cars left in their parking spaces. Rolls of barbwire stretched across the exit ramp and snow filled the dip before the street. The silhouette of a man holding a rifle leaned against the building's black shadow lying on the white street. She felt Bruce next to her and threw out her arm to stop him.

He took her gloved hand and led her across the parking garage. This side of the building faced a skinny alley and another skyscraper. The concrete retaining wall extended from the floor to her chest and a fat cylindrical bar bisected the open air window between the concrete columns supporting the rest of the building. Shoddy security feature that wouldn't stop the more daring car thieves she knew. But the shoddy security worked in their favor now.

Bruce slid over the concrete wall and below the bar first. He dangled against the building before dropping into the alley. Selina exhaled as she prayed her ass hadn't widened yet. She slipped under the bar without snagging. She swung her body off the edge. Her fingers clung to the sharp corner as she lowered her body by straightening her arms.

Strong hands wrapped around her hips. She let go of the wall and Bruce slid her down his body to the ground. "You didn't need to," she whispered at him.

"Wanted to," he whispered back. They eased past the bored guards around Wayne Enterprises and headed down West Sixteenth Street into West Side.

The cold stung her face and dug through the gloves to seize her fingers. She let go of Bruce's hand so they could stuff their hands into their coat pockets. The cold and the fuel shortage meant they were the only ones braving the streets. She grew tired of hearing the snow crunch under their feet. "So where are we going?"

"Sheal Docklands. Are you okay with the walk?"

"Since there are no cabs to hail, I'll live. Why there? You got a Bat-Boat?"

He smirked. "No boat, but I do like the idea. I built a bunker there; hopefully, Bane didn't find out about it."

If she stopped the cold would seep further into her boots, but oh how she wanted to stop. "Bunker? Underground again?"

His head jerked to look at her. "It won't be that bad."

No Barsad keeping them trapped was a bonus, but still. "It better be the penthouse of underground lairs."

Rumbling of vehicles coming up Robinson Avenue interrupted Bruce's reply. He grabbed her arm and pushed her into the alcove protecting a store's front entrance. He pressed her against the wall with his chest.

She silently snarled and curled her hands into fists. Over his shoulder, Bruce watched the truck slightly smaller than a semi passed through the intersection. He tucked his face next to her head as the Hummer with a gun turret followed after the bomb truck. She waited until the convoy's rumble faded before shoving him. He didn't move. "I'm not helpless!"

"I wanted to hide your face." He stepped back to the sidewalk. Selina fell into step beside him. "We don't need a fight with Bane right now."

"I agree." They hurried across Robinson. "Just save the protecting for someone who really needs it."

"You want everyone in Gotham ahead of you?"

"Stop assuming that you're helping everyone in Gotham alone."

He lapsed into silence as they changed direction and walked up along the docks lining Queens River. This partnership stuff was easy when the common enemy was in your face. Bane was far enough away, Bruce might think he could face the fanatic alone again. She had to squash that thought before he had it.

They ended up at a Wayne Enterprises shipping yard. Bruce's code worked on the gate lock, which he reengaged before leading her down a lane lined with C-cans. He stopped them at a red one halfway between the street gate and the water after the lane turned a corner.

Selina's eyebrows rose at the biometric lock that scanned his finger before he swung open the doors. "Pretty fancy lock for an empty cargo container." She smirked as she walked into it.

He smirked before swinging the doors shut. "This isn't a cargo container." The floor shifted down and heated air wafted up through the growing crack between the floor and the walls. Lights flickered on next, so they saw the long empty concrete room the platform stopped in.

Bruce strode forward over the floor with many staggered seams. She had never seen a concrete pour that had resulted in that look, so she followed his path. He stopped in front of a row of incinerators built into the wall and putting out much-missed heat. She stopped in front of the middle one and basked.

He knelt on the floor between seams that marked a large L on the floor, and tucked his thumb into a dimple before standing up. The floor glided up, transforming into a concrete-slab desktop. A stand of monitors rose up behind it and between her and Bruce a long rectangle slab continued up to the ceiling becoming a work station with task lighting and housing a server underneath it.

She leaned across the workstation as he typed on a wireless keyboard. "Impressive."

"I'm not done impressing you yet." Along the opposite wall, five concrete slabs slid up and tucked against the ceiling. Bruce pointed to each of them. "Storage room, medical bay, chemistry lab, bathroom--"

She darted around the desk straight for the lighted, smaller room. "Dibs on the first shower!"

"And garage," he finished. She ignored him as she stared at the first-person corner shower with more jets than she could count. The sink cabinet hid the towels. She tucked two into the towel bar on the wall next to the shower when Bruce spoke behind her. "These are probably too big, but I don't have any robes like the Carlyle." He held out a pile of black clothing.

She seized the offering and kissed him hard. "You are getting laid tonight. After you get clean."

He blinked. "Hot water turns you on?"

"Are you questioning your good fortune? Fine, I won't leave you any." She pulled her goggles from the coat pocket and laid them beside the sink.

"It doesn't run out, but I wish I had thought about a bigger stall." He caressed her cheek before pulling a privacy screen out of the wall next to the chemistry lab. It reminded her of a Japanese rice paper screen only made of a textured plastic.

She made sure he had returned to the computer before she yanked apart the zipper on her catsuit.

By the time she finished with her shower and dressed in the baggy sweat pants, T-shirt, and socks Bruce gave her, he had raised a long table from the floor, sat two stools around one corner, and place set the best he could with two MREs. "Beef enchiladas," he said. "You're probably sicker of chicken than I am."

She glanced at the monitors while she wrapped her hair into a tighter turban with a towel. One was playing GCN muted, one had a diagram of the reactor rotating on it, two had a map of Gotham City stretched out on them, and the rest had lists too far away from her to read. "Been busy?"

"Found Gordon and Blake, got the reactor information pulled up, and thought we better eat before I got caught up in that or started exercising." They sat at the table. Bruce brought up the next conversation topic. "Your suit didn't give you much protection and now you need a new one."

The enchiladas were heavy on cardamom and she drank from her water bottle. "You have a spare you want me to have? I don't go beating people up. What would I do with all that Kevlar?"

"There has to be something in Applied Science that will protect you better than that spandex you were wearing."

"Please, you ogled the spandex too."

His eyes crinkled. "I didn't say you looked bad in spandex, but you'll look just as good in titanium-dipped tri-weave fiber."

"And where are we going to source that when you had it dropped on the bottom of the ocean?" Bruce smirked at her while he chewed. She gaped as she realized what he was not admitting out loud. "You are simply unreal. Out of you head with pain and you still managed to lie to Bane?"

His smirk melted into a serious smile. "I had a lot of incentive to be convincing when Bane threatened you." He averted his hazel eyes. "I had Mr. Dawes trade the loaded ones for three empty containers across the road, and the empty ones were sunk. So everything from Applied Science is available, plus the tools I have stored here."

She grinned at him. "It was time for a new suit anyway." He smiled back. "So what ration schedule are we on?" She waved her vegetable cracker at their MREs before popping it into her mouth.

"Eat as much as you want. We've got three hundred sixty-five cases. That'll last for a couple of years." He speared the last bit of his enchilada with his fork.

"Why so much?"

Bruce swallowed. "That was Alfred's doing. Buying in bulk through dummy companies was the easiest way to supply, but he always said in a bad enough situation, food was worth more than money." The upturn of his mouth fell and the slight crinkle of his eyes smoothed as the shutters closed off that memory of Alfred. "Are you finished?" he asked. She nodded and he scooped up the packaging, carried it to the incinerator doors, and closed it before any noxious fumes from the plastic could invade the bunker. "I'm going to work out now."

"Okay." She had pushed him enough over the past couple of months. If he didn't want to tell her why he was upset with Alfred, she could wait. She sat down at the computer desk while he extended a pull-up bar out of the wall beyond the storage room. A floor mat came out of the storage room next; that had to be for her yoga routing. He did sit-ups on the cage floor until she lost count. He grabbed the pull-up bar and she turned to the computer screens.

The reactor diagram images also had a date clock running in the bottom right corner: 66 days and she didn't pay attention to the decreasing hours, minutes, and seconds numbers. "Is this how long we have until the reactor goes boom?"

Yes," Bruce grunted as he lowered himself from the bar. "Provided Bane removed the core from the reactor the same day as the football game."

"Still too close for comfort. Okay besides making me a new suit, what's next?"

"Get intel from Blake and Gordon."

She unwrapped her hair and rubbed it while she looked at the map of Gotham. The dot labeled Gordon was stationary on the other side of Midtown, but Blake was hiking across Uptown right now. Her eyebrows knitted together. "You tagged them?"

"Now you sound like Lucius." Bruce let go of the bar and sat on the mat. He contorted through a few crunches before exploding into words. "And for all the lectures that you have to trust people to have self-interest in their own survival, that people deserve privacy, that I can't save **everyone** ," he spat out that word, "the ones I know are alive and safe are the two cops I didn't give the choice to!" He flung his hand at the computer as he glared at the wall.

Selina walked to the edge of the mat. "Two questions. Did you tag me?"

He jerked his head and blinked as he looked up at her. "I haven't, and you don't want me to."

"Let's talk about my choice later." He glanced at the mat as his shoulders slumped. "What happened between you and Alfred?"

"He left me," he said as he deflated.

"Because you wanted to do suicide-by-Batman?"

"He said he didn't want to bury me, but he left because I told him to go. I was so angry. He lied to me for eight years!" His hands curled into fists. "I lost Rachel before the Joker blew up that warehouse. She chose Dent, and Alfred thought he was sparing me pain by not telling me." She stepped closer and he looked up at her with wincing eyes. "I was over it after I slept. You saw me, wallowing in my grief. I might as well have sewn his lips together myself. But he left and now I have no way of knowing where he is or if he's safe."

She smoothed the ratty long-sleeved shirt he still wore over his shoulders. "His name hasn't shown up on the GCN's tribunal victim list, like Lucius Fox's hasn't."

"They both could be in the Dungeon, but Alfred's not high profile enough for the show and Bane--"

She ran her fingers through his hair. "The man I met, the man who survived raising you, would not get captured by Bane." He looked up and she stroked her other hand against his stubble-covered jaw. "After Bane's dealt with, we'll go find Alfred."

"We?"

She pulled her hands back. "If you'd rather make it a guy thing--"

Bruce caught hold of her hand. "No, I... I'm not used to _we_." His thumb rubbed circles against her skin. "I want to take care of you and you end up taking care of me."

"That's what people in a _we_ situation do." She smirked. "And your luxury suite underground lair is taking care of me."

"Let me guess, it's not a penthouse underground lair due to lack of a bedroom." She nodded as a yawn forced its way out. God, how she hated these sudden bouts of fatigue. "After this is over, we'll go find Alfred and then we'll go check on Jen." She nodded again as another yawn kept her from talking. He squeezed her hand. "Go rest. I won't leave."

"You better not." She yawned again, but picked up the bathroom before stripping and climbing between the hospital bed's sheets. She dozed off, woke up to the shower running, and rolled over. She did notice the lights dimming before Bruce moved inside the medical bay, but his erection poking her when he spooned behind her that truly roused her. "Somebody's eager."

"You did promise." He shifted her hair. She smelled his aftershave before his shaven face kissed her neck. "But if you're tired, I--"

"I'd rather be dead than too tired for you." She ground her ass against him.

His arms wrapped around her as his lips kissed down her neck. "Don't say it like that."

She planted her left leg behind his calves. "Touch me, Bruce. Make me scream."

He slid his left hand down her stomach and cupped her dark curls. His other arm banded across her chest and pressed up her breasts. She stroked his side before plucking her own nipples. "Selina." He squeezed her tighter to his chest.

His long fingers tickled her g-spot. Her whole body coiled tighter. Her cry wasn't a scream, but it was louder than any sounds of pleasure she made in a week. "Bruce!"

"Selina." He withdrew his fingers from her quivering insides and thrust into her. She grabbed the bed rail as she rocked with him. "I'm yours, Selina," he kissed behind her ear. "I'm yours until the end."

She couldn't respond as her body tightened around him again and she screamed at the stars she saw. Bruce managed a few more thrusts before he pressed his face against her neck and came with a shout. 

Once she could, Selina turned in his arms. His expression was tender yet braced for a blow. _Just blurt it out._ She cupped his face with both hands. "I love you, so I'm yours, Bruce. But the end better be far, far away."

His smile lit up his whole face and he drew her up his body for a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter many reviewers couldn't wait to get to. Tell me if it worked or didn't.


	22. Chapter Twenty-One

  


### Occupation of Gotham City: Day 85

The doors of the relief supply truck were opened and the driver nodded to Captain Jones. Jones grabbed a bag of rice and stepped down onto the snowy street. He scanned the area. People lined up on the sidewalk waiting for the store to be stoked. He stepped inside the door labeled Don's Mart. Jones set the food onto the counter of the empty store. An older woman stood behind the cash register. A teenage boy leaned on a broom between the empty shelves. His head swung in the direction of a door between the coolers on the back wall.

Jones and the two other members of his team descended into a fluorescent-lit basement storeroom. A group of about a dozen men waited with the stacked chairs and cleaning products. Deputy Commissioner Foley stood in front of them. "Do you have I.D.?"

"Course not," Jones answered with a scoff.

"Then how can we trust you?"

"We don't have any choice," a man interrupted from the shadowed doorway behind Gotham's resistance group. The dark-haired and mustached man stepped out.

"Commissioner Gordon, Captain Jones Special Forces." He shook the hand of Gotham's only civilian leader left standing.

"Captain, glad to have you here."

"It's our job, sir. Now, how many of you are there?"

Gordon looked over his men. "There's dozens, but I'd rather not say exactly. But the men trapped underground number nearly three thousand."

"What kind of condition are they in?"

"They've been getting food and water."

"Can we break them out?"

"Yes, sir," a younger man interrupted. A dark-haired Caucasian stepped from behind Foley. "Take out the mercenaries guarding the outflow out of Trillium Park, blow the rubble, we can make a hole big enough for ten at a time. I'm in contact with my partner who's down there. They're just waiting for the day."

Jones' second, Novick, pointed out the first issue. "Men who haven't seen daylight in three months."

"Police officers who haven't seen daylight in three month," the young officer said.

"What about the bomb?" Jones asked. "Satellites can't pick up any radiation hot spots."

"Well, they keep it on the truck," Gordon said. "It must have a lead-lined roof. They move it constantly."

"So you know the truck?"

"It's one of three; we've been tracking them. The routes don't vary much."

"Okay, what about the triggerman?"

"No leads." Gordon huffed. "It's a bluff. Bane wouldn't give control of that bomb to someone else."

"We can't take that chance. Until we have the triggerman, we just track the device." Jones pursed his lips.

"And meanwhile, Gotham lives under a warlord, like some failed state?" The young officer's anger laced every word. The men behind him crossed their arms in solidarity.

"Dial it back, officer." Jones infused his voice with as much sympathy as he could. "This situation is unprecedented. We can't do anything to risk millions of lives."

The young man looked at Gordon. "You gonna tell him? You gonna tell him what's really going on?"

Gordon sighed. "Captain, the situation is more complicated than you think. There's someone you need to meet. Detective Blake, show them the way."

The young hothead nodded and led the way out of the basement and through the back door out of the store. They took a maze-like path through the alleys and side streets not in use. Jones moved alongside Blake. "I'd like to see one of these bomb trucks. We brought a Geiger counter."

"We'll pass a convoy on the way." Blake consulted his watch. "Come on."

Halfway across Midtown Island, they crossed paths with the semi-truck escorted by Hummers. His two men guarded the other end of the alley. Jones faced the building and hid the Geiger counter with his body. Blake watched the convoy approach as he faced the building.

"Decoy," Jones announced before pocketing the counter. Blake drew a bat symbol on the side of the building with a thick stick of chalk, Gotham's freaky urban legend, right. "You don't really think he's coming back, do you?"

Blake stuffed his hands into his coat pockets. "Doesn't matter what I think."

They crossed the empty street. "Actually, it does. You should put your faith into something a little more real."

A smile lifted Blake's entire expression. "Batman is real, Captain. He saved my life when I was a kid."

"And then he disappears after murdering people and pops back up to boost the news ratings," Jones said.

Blake shook his head. "Bane figured out how to outmaneuver us all. But he hasn't stopped Batman."

"What if Bane already has?"

A bleak expression passed over the boyish face before it hardened. Now the thought occurred to Jones that it may have been kinder not to imply that Blake's childhood hero was dead. "Then won't he be surprised when Batman comes back." Blake's harshness vanished. "Here we are." He waved for Jones' men to catch up.

The building was tall enough to be a short skyscraper. Letters spelling out Gotham National Bank hung above the glass door Blake pulled open. "Came upstairs looking for a vantage point. Found the people who run the corporation living up here."

"What corporation?" Jones asked as they climbed up the marble steps from the lobby to a walkway of columns.

"Wayne Enterprises," Blake answered. A young man stood guard behind a column. "You good?" He nodded at Blake. Two more men guarded the elevator at the end of the walkway, but they moved aside for Blake.

The power was still on, but the people living on the floor they stopped on didn't depend on it. Fire barrels formed the centers of huddled groups on the lower floor as they looked over the balcony walkway. Blake's progress down the walkway was stopped by an African-American, elderly man and a younger Caucasian woman who stepped out of a curtained boardroom. Both of them wore layers against the cold.

Blake didn't waste time with introductions. "Mr. Fox, would you like to brief the captain?"

The old man didn't miss how the soldiers' eyes shifted to the woman. "Ms. Tate is fully aware of the situation," he began.

"And as CEO of Wayne Enterprises, I have to take responsibility for it," she said.

"Why?" Jones asked.

"We built it."

Jones blinked at Ms. Tate. "You built the bomb?" Wayne Enterprises had done some experimental weapon designs but the report he had been given said that had ended when Bruce Wayne took control of the company.

"It was built as a fusion reactor," Fox explained. "First one of its kind. Bane turned the core into a bomb and removed it from the reactor."

"Here's the important part," Blake said.

"As the device's fuel cells deteriorate, it becomes increasingly unstable to the point of detonation."

Blake translated Fox's jargon. "This bomb is a time bomb."

"And it will go off in sixty-five days, regardless of Bane's revolution or what we or the outside world choose to do," Fox added.

"So your appeasement plan might not be as practical as you thought," Blake said.

With this news, Jones no longer wondered why the detective had the cranky disposition. He focused on Fox. "Could you disarm it?"

"I could reconnect it to the reactor. Stabilize it."

Jones nodded and turned to his men. "Let's move away from this location and call it in."

"Right, let's go."

Jones stopped Blake. "No, no, we'll take it from here. You stay and look after these folks." Blake didn't protest, and the three soldiers entered the elevator alone.

"They're bound to be monitoring our frequencies," Novick said after the door closed.

"Command has to know before we start anything against Bane."

The elevator door slid open in the bank lobby and Jones led the way through the columned walkway. Gunfire erupted and Rucka fell. Jones and Novick took cover behind separate columns, pulled out their guns, and returned fire. But the mercenaries had them surrounded on this floor. Out of the corner of his eye, Jones saw Novick fall.

They pelted his column with bullets and he moved toward new cover. Bullets slammed through his meat and bone and dropped him to the marble floor. The gunfire stopped as he lay there. The masked mercenary loomed over him. "I'll die before I'll talk," Jones promised him.

"I'm on your schedule, Captain." Bane knelt beside Jones and pressed his knee onto Jones' throat. 

Jones' eyes bulged as he pushed up, but he had no strength to push Bane's bulk off. His lungs couldn't pull air past Bane's knee, no matter how hard they tried. The world darkened and his hands slipped to the floor.

* * *

Fox took a deep breath. Truth was, he had worse meetings with military officers, and was about to say so when gunfire erupted below them. The three of them looked over the balcony as the crowd below screamed and ran. Men fired into the air as they pushed their way through.

"Someone sold us out!" Blake pulled out his handgun.

Fox pushed Miranda toward the back stairwell. Blake moved with them until one of Bane's Army strode onto the hallway balcony. Fox shoved the younger people. "Go, go, go!" He stopped in the hallway and put his hands behind his head. Behind him, the stairwell door slammed.

The mercenary shrugged and prodded Fox toward the elevator. Fox didn't resist.

He didn't see Miranda or Blake in the crowd gathered in the lobby for transport to the Dungeon, and the crowd was only half of who had been housed here. Some got away. He ignored his dry mouth as he climbed into the open bed of the truck. He hoped they got away.

The truck crossed Gotham River over the Narrows Bridge. It circled around Trillium Park by going through Cobble Hill and East Park Side. The streets collected the evidence of peoples' parties, debris still recognizable under a layer of snow.

They idled the truck in front of City Hall. Two mercenaries in camouflaged clothing and red bandannas tied around their necks climbed into the truck bed and brandished their guns. "Bane wants Lucius Fox."

Jessica surged to her feet as Fox stepped between people. "You can't have him!"

Their guns pointed at her. He grabbed her thin arm. She turned her brimming eyes to him. "It's all right. I need you take care of everyone here."

Her lip and chin trembled but she managed to say, "Yes, sir," before sinking back onto the bench.

The mercenaries flanked him as he climbed down out of the truck. Its engine revved and it headed up the block as they escorted Fox up the steps. Past the glass doors, a few desks and chairs had been scattered around the marble-lined rotunda. Bane flexed his meaty fingers over a fire barrel. "So we meet again, Mr. Fox."

One of the mercenaries pushed Fox closer. "Why here and not in Crane's tribunal?"

"You were the technical expertise behind the Batman."

_How did he know that?_ But Fox was too experienced with stockholders, directors, and reporters to show his surprise or confirm Bane's guess.

"I am in need of technical expertise," Bane continued in his distorted voice.

Fox took a deep breath. He may die here thanks to his mouth, but he wouldn't be a traitor. "I saw what happened to your last expert."

The large mercenary perched against the desk. "The outside world has interfered, but we do not want to use the trigger. We want to speed up the decay of the core."

"I don't even know if that can be done." Boiling rage that this monster would order this like deciding what to have for a meal collided with glacier fear for everyone in the city. The resulting steam fueled his recklessness. "Why? Is sixty-five days until the end of Gotham too long to wait?"

Bane ignored Fox's question and looked past him to the mercenaries standing guard. "Show Mr. Fox to his rooms and give him all of Dr. Pavel's papers." He turned back to the fire. "We will get what we want one way or another."

City Hall still had electricity for the elevator. Fox and his guards got off on the top floor. The door they opened was labeled Councilman-at-Large. The corner office still had the desk, sofa, shelves, and filing cabinets from its previous function plus a camping cot with a sleeping bag set up in front of the desk. A third mercenary pushed his way inside. He set a plastic file box on top of the desk and followed the other two out. The lock clicked once the door shut.

The windows showing the wintry city did not open. The second door was to a private washroom. Fox sighed as he returned to the desk. Might as well see what kind of mess Dr. Pavel made out of Bruce's reactor. He opened the file box and pulled out the first notebook.

* * *

Blake unlocked the apartment door. Miranda Tate slipped inside before him. She wiped a finger against the TV screen as he locked the door. "You haven't been here for a while."

"No, keeping my neighbors safe by staying away." He moved to the kitchen and turned on the faucet. Water sputtered but ran clear. "Plumbing still works and Bane won't think to look for you here."

"That is true." She picked up the remote on his beat-up coffee table and turned on the television.

GCN turned on and their camera focused on the cable supports of the broken Calvary Bridge. Blake came up behind the couch as the camera zoomed in on three bodies among the cables. Engle's voice spoke over the scene. "Bane's Army has cordoned off the entire East Park and Cobble Hill areas to present anyone from disturbing the bodies of the outside interlopers."

A low growl filled the room. Miranda clicked off the TV and whirled to face him. His fingers dug into the back of the couch as his anger reverberated in his throat. He choked off the growl and scrambled for his mask of calm. "Sorry," he barked at her as he let go of the couch.

"Detective, don't blame yourself. Those men knew the risk of entering Gotham City right now."

He took a deep breath before looking at her big, grey eyes. "That doesn't make any of this right. And it also doesn't mean I didn't screw up somehow." He shook his head. "Maybe they spotted us at the bomb convoy."

She circled around the couch. "That is blaming yourself, John. We should concentrate on how to best help now."

"You know how to dismantle the bomb?"

"No," her grey eyes hardened. "There must be something else I can help with in your resistance."

Blake glanced out the window at the darkening city street. "Not tonight. I'll take you to Gordon in the morning. Bedroom and bathroom are through there." He pointed at the door beside his fridge. "I'll take the couch."

Her hand caught his and squeezed it. "Thank you, John, for helping me." She drew out letting him go until they had to separate as she headed down the short hallway. His arm dropped back to his side.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Blake rubbed them and looked out the window. No danger on the street below. Miranda Tate was a beauty and was probably very grateful for his navigation through Gotham's alleys, but Father Reilly raised him to be a gentleman. He tossed himself on the couch and pulled the blanket off the back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm guessing something went wrong with AO3's commenting or notification system with my last chapter. I know I'm not getting any comments on this chapter since it's all about Blake and Fox. Okay, maybe somebody will worry about Fox's predicament.


	23. Chapter Twenty-Two

  


### Occupation of Gotham City: Day 86

If Miranda Tate was upset he hadn't crawled into bed after her, Blake didn't see any signs of it in the morning. She followed him to Conway's store without asking a bunch of questions. They found Gordon pacing in the basement storeroom. "What's the status?" the Commissioner asked.

"Bane's Army killed the Special Forces soldiers. I got Miranda Tate out." She nodded at the Commissioner. "Don't know who else escaped or who was captured," Blake finished.

"We need to know," Gordon said.

"On it." Blake turned to leave.

"Please, I want to help." Miranda turned imploring eyes between the two men.

Gordon curled an arm around her shoulders and turned her toward the second room. "Welcome on board, Ms. Tate. Let's get you some breakfast and find you something to do."

Blake trotted down the streets. They needed Fox now more than ever. He reached the Dungeon around midmorning. The daily crowd had already gathered for Crane's tribunal. He scanned the armed men loitering with the crowd.

Tony choked his automatic rifle and burrowed his head into his too big coat. Blake stepped up beside him. "We need to talk, Tony."

The teenager leaped into the air as he whirled. The gun barrel poked Blake in the chest. "Do you have a death wish?"

Since Tony's hand wasn't on the trigger, Blake pushed the gun away. "I don't have time for this. Is Fox in there?"

Tony swallowed hard. "They brought about twenty or so Wayne Enterprises people here last night. I told Father Reilly to go check for kids they left behind. But Bane took Fox to City Hall."

"Why?"

"You don't ask Bane why!" The teenager's eyes bulged.

"Yeah, dumb question. Thanks for the info." Blake slid into the crowd and moved away from the Stock Exchange Building. Calster Street was empty as the crowd surged into the building for the show. He stuffed his hands into his coat pockets as he walked.

"Hey you!" was shouted behind him.

Blake stepped onto the sidewalk in front of an alley between two buildings before turning to the stomping feet.

Five men approached with guns slung from their shoulders or tucked in their belts. "What's your hurry?" the one at the head of the pack asked. "Don't wanna watch the rich bastards get what they deserve?"

"Not particularly no." Blake pulled his fists from his pockets.

The larger man stepped up on the sidewalk. "I wonder why. Maybe you belong in the judgment chair."

Blake's right fist knocked the sneer off his rotting teeth. He spun and landed against his closest pals. Blake ran down the alley before the others moved. He twisted through the alleys, but their shouts were always too close. No fire escapes to climb up and lose them. He dodged into the opening on the right and skidded to a stop in front of a brick wall.

"Who are you?" The thug behind him demanded as he cocked his gun.

Blake faced him with his hands raised. The thugs glared at him and missed the figure in black descend into the alley behind them, blocking the exit. The black figure surged forward and so did Blake. He grabbed the rifle and shoved its wielder against the wall. Three punches in rapid succession later and the thug he had dropped before slid down the bricks. Blake let him go and turned to the others. Batman without his cape stood between the fallen bodies. One thug tried to get up. "You missed a spot," Blake called out.

Batman kicked the thug as he stepped past him. "Risky getting that close to the Dungeon."

"You're going to lecture me about risk when you're out in daylight?"

Blake thought he saw a smirk under the cowl, but it was hard to tell with the shadows. Batman turned his back to Blake as he raised a bronze gun. "Climb on." Blake frowned but grabbed Batman's armored shoulders.

The grapple line pulled them to the roof. Blake scrabbled over the parapet and landed in a pile of snow. Batman vaulted over and dropped on his feet next to a gym bag. Blake brushed the snow off before it soaked through his jeans while Batman pulled on black sweat pants and a bulky drab olive coat. The helmet-like cowl went into the bag with the grapple gun and Bruce Wayne threw the bag onto his shoulder. "Gordon expecting you?"

Blake shook his head. "Not soon, and I'd rather bring him better news." Bruce raised his eyebrows. "You want to debrief here?" Blake asked.

"You're right, come on." Bruce led the way across the roof to the building's fire escape down into another alley.

They left Downtown via the Midtown Bridge and passed the Wayne Enterprises building. The guards were no longer posted at the barricades. They headed to the Sheal Docklands that bordered the Queens River. Bruce unlocked an electronic gate on a shipping yard. Blake stared up at the giant crane towering over the cargo containers. Bruce picked up a sign identifying the area as Wayne Enterprises property and headed down the lane of cargo containers. Blake followed him without saying a word.

This silence lasted until the floor of the cargo container Bruce led him inside moved. "And now a trip to a funhouse?"

"Welcome to the bunker," Bruce said as the platform sank even with the floor below.

Blake shut his mouth as he looked over the long underground room. His face cracked with the heat that hit it. A camouflaged Tumbler sat with half its roof off between this elevator and a computer desk. A long concrete slab topped table held a stack of MREs. Sections of the wall on the right tucked up against the ceiling of light panels and showed rooms beyond.

Selina Kyle sat at a machine that looked like a cross between a sewing machine and a pizza oven, and fed black material through it. She powered it down and flipped up her goggles so they resembled cat ears on her head. "Good, you found him. Now we can have lunch." She sauntered around the gym mats on the floor and headed to the table dressed in sweats too big for her.

"What happened to you two?" Blake took the MRE and hoped his question was louder than his growling stomach. "You haven't been here all these months." He opened the packaging. "I found your note in the room at the Carlyle."

"That was meant for Selina," Bruce said.

"And you shouldn't have left me behind either," Selina said. Her face looked thinner since Blake had last seen her. "I know I didn't make a difference following you, but if you had planned with me--"

Bruce leaned across the corner of the table and squeezed her hand. "You made a difference." He kept hold of it while he turned to Blake. "I fought Bane alone and lost."

"Bane cheated," Selina said.

"You didn't see the fight." Bruce squeezed her hand again before opening his MRE. "Bane was stronger, faster, and I was not in my best shape."

"You should've called me," Blake muttered as the heater warmed his beef stew.

Selina's ponytail whipped through the air as she shook her head. "That's true and it still doesn't matter. Bane cheated." She went to the computer desk and held up a tiny metal canister. "While you were out, I remembered where I had seen these: plugged into the back of Bane's mask. So I Googled the chemical name. Turns out it's a general anesthetic that doesn't knock the patient out but its addictive side effects have kept it out of use. It didn't matter how hard you hit Bane, on this stuff, he didn't feel it. So he cheated!" She dropped the canister on the desk and stomped back to her seat.

Blake looked at Bruce, expecting anger over how the previous fight went. Instead a grim smile spread as his hazel eyes gleamed. "You found his weakness," Bruce said.

She stirred her beef stew. "You're going to fight dirty?"

"It won't kill him if his supply is cut off, will it?"

"Nope, he'll probably wish he was dead and then wish it harder after you're done with him." She looked across the table at Blake. "He kept us locked up and we couldn't escape until Bruce was healed."

Blake nodded. "Why didn't Bane just kill you?"

"Had to suffer, watching Gotham tear itself apart first. Who were those outside interlopers hung on the bridge?" Bruce opened his water bottle.

"Special Forces soldiers who snuck in to help us deal with the bomb. Fox had just explained to them how it's going to blow up anyway when Bane's Army broke into the camp. They died before telling Washington anything, and Bane took Fox prisoner again. That's why I was at the Dungeon." Blake looked down at his meal.

"Lucius and Miranda are in the Dungeon?" Bruce asked.

"No. I took Ms. Tate to Gordon this morning. She wants to help. Bane took Fox to City Hall where he and his army have been camping out."

"Hell," Selina said. "And the rest of the people with Fox and Tate?"

"Twenty adults ended up in the Dungeon that worked for Wayne Enterprises, sorry, Bruce. Bane's Army doesn't lock up kids, and my informant told Father Reilly to look for ones that were left. I don't know how many were in the bank or how fast Crane processes the prisoners." He pushed away the empty wrappers.

Selina turned to Bruce who sat at the head of the table. "How badly do we need Fox? You built the damn thing."

"With Lucius' input. If anything happens to me, he's the only one who can stabilize the core. Have you and Gordon found the triggerman?"

"Not even a whispered rumor of a lead."

"So Bane has the trigger and Lucius." Bruce leaned forward on his stool. "But it's possible he's passed the trigger to one of his inner circle. More likely since he knows we've escaped."

"He knows?" She broke her cracker in half.

"The guards are gone from around the Wayne Enterprises building."

She dropped the pieces into her stew bowl and brushed off her hands. "That can work in our favor. Bane will keep Fox alive to use as a hostage against you."

"So how do we get the bomb away from Bane? Once we figure out which truck it's in," Blake said.

"By waging war with Bane," Bruce said. "But first, how do you want to protect Gotham, John, as a police officer or my way?"

"Batman could be anybody," Blake repeated to the man who has said it what seemed like a lifetime ago. "I'm ready to suit up."

Selina stood. "I'm not sewing him a suit; he has to sew his own. Pull up the plans for City Hall for me at some point." She headed back to the machine she had been working at.

Bruce smiled. "You're volunteering?"

"I thought you wanted Fox taken away from Bane without Bane noticing? Baby, that's my skill set." She turned on the machine again.

Blake turned back to Bruce. "I am ready, but Gordon is relying on me. I can't disappear on him."

"That's not necessary." Bruce motioned for Blake to follow him. They stepped inside the last little room off the main one. It was lined with shelves and boxes. Bruce pulled down a box close to the shorter ceiling and handed a Geiger counter to Blake. "You and Gordon are in the best position to find the core. We need to gain control of it as soon as we hit Bane."

"And tell Gordon that Batman's back."

Bruce shook his head. "I want Bane to worry why I haven't been spotted until we get Lucius out. After that, we can give Gordon a plan to work with. Let's set you up with codes so you don't have to climb the fence when you come back, find Selina's blueprints, and plan your training."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had planned a scene from Father Reilly's point of view to show the Occupation from his perspective, but I scrapped it when I couldn't come up with what made his perspective different. Then I had a brainwave from misguided Tony. We don't see children in the Dungeon scenes, because even mobs balk when it comes to hurting children who haven't done anything. So they don't round up the children when they snatch their parents. What happens to the children? Tony tells Father Reilly, and he's been squeezing them into St. Swithin's.
> 
> So this is going down on my list of why I'll won't post a work in progress again. If I wasn't posting, I could go back and add the scene and the readers would have no idea how late it occurred to me. It's harder than I want to even think about to fix it now and wreck everyone's flow.
> 
> In other news, I'm working on a fanmix for _Part of the Night_ which will cover both _the One Rule_ and the sequel story. So far it's a mix of Hans Zimmer's score, Florence + the Machine, and Imagine Dragons. But "Radioactive" has been grabbed by the _Signs and Portents_ series. I'm still looking for artists that connect with Blake and Jen, so I have no idea when I'll actually finish mixing this. Leave a comment if you have a suggestion.


	24. Chapter Twenty-Three

  


### Occupation of Gotham City: Day 88

Selina rolled in the hospital bed and realized the other side was empty and chilled. She sat up. Bruce sat in front of his computer monitors. She slid out of the bed and put on Bruce's black T-shirt with her own yoga pants. Blake had brought their luggage from the Carlyle here yesterday when he reported in. Not that Bruce needed anything with the full wardrobe he had stashed here, but Selina was so grateful to have underwear again, she had hugged the ex-cop and surprised both men. She hoped whatever pulled Bruce out of bed this early wasn't related to that.

He used two pairs of needle nose pliers to bend a short piece of copper wire, and didn't look up as she reached the desk. The side out to the bunker was free from wire sheath he had cut open for the copper so she hopped up and sat on it. "You're up early."

"I couldn't stop thinking about what we said the other night." He put the copper around a thin pipe and pulled the ends closer together.

That was nicer than threatening Blake or fantasizing about fighting Bane. "Because it was a wonderful way to end an escape?" A band of copper wire wrapped around the ring finger of his left hand. Her mouth dried.

"Partly," he admitted with a smile, he held up the copper ring for her inspection. "It's not the nicest I can get for you, but it's the best I can do right now. I will get you a better one after this is done."

She licked her lips. "Are you promising to marry me after we kick Bane out of Gotham?"

"I'm not marrying anyone else after what I promised you."

It had been hard enough to get the truth out about her feelings and now he wanted proof found in a set of rings, a piece of paper, and the approval of everyone who knew them? "I'm not the kind of girl you bring home to meet your mother." _Shit! Why did I bring up parents?_

Bruce stood and cupped her cheek. "No, you're the kind of girl who follows who she cares about to the bowels of hell." His thumb grazed her skin. "And my mother would have loved that about you." He glanced down at the ring he held. "At least the hell I'm promising now won't lack food and will have a bigger bed."

"Most men would promise heaven on Earth to get a yes."

"I don't like the life I was born into, but it does have its perks and I want to give them to you. Starting with a bigger bed."

"For mind-blowing sex?" Like the rest of the package mattered more. Still she did like shiny wrapping paper. She held out her left hand.

"For mind-blowing sex." He slid the copper around her ring finger and pinched it closed. His hands cradled her head before he swooped closer and kissed her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and didn't let go when their kiss ended. "Let's use the bed we got and start the honeymoon now."

"We can't. You have to head out soon."

She looked over her shoulder at the computer clock. "Damn it. You should have woken me up earlier."

"I thought you needed to rest. You still look exhausted."

"Well, I better go make myself pretty." She slid off the desk and out of his arms. She had finished the new suit yesterday deflecting Bruce's offers to help after he finished with the Tumbler. She didn't need him asking questions on why the measurements changed between her old suit and this one.

It zipped up smoothly even though the crosshatching of the titanium fiber felt different against her skin. She should have woken up early enough to go through her yoga routine in it. She stepped into her boots and zipped them. Now she'd have to break it in on the job. No pressure.

She combed her hair, ringed her eyes with eyeliner--noting that the circles still hadn't cleared up--and painted her lips with her reddest lipstick. She buckled on her mask and her belt. The belt sat higher on her waist, but not uncomfortable so. She pulled on her gloves.

Bruce watched her saunter out of the bathroom and across the bunker. "Does it meet with your approval, Mr. Wayne?" She stopped in front of his chair.

His dilated pupils bored into her. "Turn it down or you won't get out of here on schedule."

She grinned. "Sorry, you bring it out in me."

"No, you're not." He lifted her back to her seat on the desk, and set an electronic key-fob in her palm. "It's a micro-EMP emitter. Its range is only a few feet, but you don't want to draw attention by making the whole building go dark."

"What in the world did you need one this small for?" She tucked it into a belt pouch.

"Paparazzi cameras, can't spoil the hermit image by letting too many photos get out there." He picked a USB stick off the desk. "You didn't even look in my wallet." Her eyebrows knitted together under her mask. "Back at the Carlyle," he added.

"Of course not, I was hurrying out to save you." She held the stick after he pressed it into her hand. "What is this?"

"Plug it in."

She rolled her eyes at him, twisted, and put it in the port built into the center bottom monitor. The screen went black before a white and blue logo popped up: CleanSlate. Her mouth dropped open as prompt boxes asking for name, birth date, and Social Security number appeared under the logo. "But Daggett said--"

"Daggett went after Rykin Data. I bought the program directly from the programmer after making sure Rykin Data had no proprietary claims." He handed her the wireless keyboard. "What's mine is yours; what's yours is mine."

She gripped the keyboard with one hand and grabbed his head with the other. The colorfast lipstick didn't smear all over him. "You really should have woken me up earlier so I could thank you properly."

He shook the glazed expression off his face. "I won't make that mistake again." She scooted off the desk and turned around to typing Magdalene Kyle's information into the program. He wrapped his arms around her. "Don't get reckless just because Jen's safe."

"Don't ruin the moment by getting all bossy." The program's task bar inched closer to completion, so she rotated in Bruce's arms. "I know this is hard for you--"

His voice deepened closer to his gravel. "You have no idea." He pressed the Tumbler key into her hand. "Stay in blackout mode and park a few blocks away--"

She kissed him again and his hands tugged on her hips. "I've got this. Where's the climbing gear?" 

He let her go and picked up a gym bag off the work station over the server. "Will you change your mind about the tracker?"

"Not when I don't know what kind of security features Bane has installed." She smiled at his scowl. "I have to maintain radio silence, but it won't take over two hours."

"I'm coming after you if it takes longer."

"It won't take longer." She took the bag, heavier than she thought the rope would weigh, and strutted to the lift. She smiled at him until she rose out of view. The Tumbler was parked in the lane outside the hidden elevator. She climbed over the new black paint job and settled into the driver's seat.

Blackout mode turned off all running lights and quieted the engine, so the driver had to depend on the instruments even more. Selina was glad she didn't have to worry about other traffic tonight. Her eyes stared at the screen plotting her course between obstacles like parked cars while she gave the controls minor corrections to keep the Tumbler steady.

She parked the massive vehicle in an alley off Aero Street. She crossed the two blocks of rooftops before City Hall, looking out for spaces that would be too difficult for Fox. Nothing alarming until she reached Geneva Street and a span that couldn't be jumped. She dug into the climbing gear bag.

Bruce put a telescopic ladder in the bag. She bit her lip to contain her laughter when she pulled out the explanation for the extra weight. It was matte black with claws on each end to anchor to the buildings, and it stretched over the dark street. She put the bag on her back and crawled over the ladder.

She had found plenty of entrances beside the front door to get inside from the plans. She couldn't tell Bruce which one she would use, which annoyed him to no end. "It all depends on what people on the site are doing. That's great you have knockout darts; I've got my own in a spray bottle." She didn't bother to explain that she considered it a point of pride not to need to knock out her targets. She doubted it could have erased the fear in his eyes. Nothing would except coming back mission accomplished.

She looked down at the four-story Greek Revival building. No one loitered on the snowy street in front of it or on the side she faced. She crouched on the edge of the roof and lowered her goggles over her eyes. No infrared lines popped out of the darkness. Was Bane that confidant no one would challenge him?

_Won't he be surprised?_ She opened up the climbing gear bag again. The rope with anchoring spikes looped over her head and shoulder. Bruce had put in two climbing harnesses. She shook her head as she buckled on one and left the other in the bag.

She hefted the zip line gun out next. She fired the first anchor into the roof access shed of this building. The second anchor hit the corner of City Hall's fourth floor. It had a ledge running under its windows perfect for a stroll. She clipped two handlebars to the wire stretched between the two buildings.

Plan of attack: see what the offices on the top floor were being used before sneaking inside. She'd set the rope as she went since she planned on bringing Fox out the way she went in. She grabbed the second handlebars and pushed off.

She landed on the ledge and loosened the rope loop. The metal bit of the first anchor whirred into the stone. She tied off the rope under the zip line and let it unspool as she moved down the ledge.

The first window was dark. Her night vision settings revealed the room was empty, but had military cots set up around the cubicles. She set another anchor above the window. The rope was out of sight if anyone came into the room.

The next three offices had Bane's men sleeping in them. The fourth on the corner was lit. She flipped up her goggles before peeking in. Lucius Fox sat at a large desk covered in notebooks and papers.

She crouched next to the window, sank the anchor into the stone next to the window, and pulled her glass cutting tools out of her belt. The claws fit over her fingertips as she pulled out the suction latch. She pressed it against the middle of the window.

Fox lifted his head before standing. Selina pressed her index finger against her lips. He nodded and turned off the office's main lights, leaving the desk lamp on.

She ran the claws against the glass seals. The rubber and caulk shredded, and she pushed the pane inside, lowering it down to the carpet. She swung her legs into the office. "Check out time, Mr. Fox," she said in a low voice.

He scooped the papers and notebooks off the desk and pressed them against his shirt. "I was expecting someone else to pick me up." He zipped his jacket closed.

"He lost the coin toss." She returned the glass cutting tools to her belt and unbuckled the climbing harness. "Guards?"

He shook his head as she helped him into the straps. "They have other things to do than stand outside my door."

"Good, got everything?" He nodded and she attached his harness to the rope stretched across the building. "The other offices are occupied; don't touch the windows. I'll take up the rope."

Fox swallowed as he leaned out the window. "Things that were left out of my job description." He pulled himself out onto the ledge.

"If you want, I'll put in a word for you getting a raise." She stood up on the ledge. Fox didn't answer as he inched away with both hands gripping the rope. She waited until he passed the next anchor point before detaching the rope and winding it around her body again.

He stopped at the zip line. "Does it work?" he whispered.

She released the clip and reattached it to the first handlebar. "You invented it." She pressed the recall button on the handlebar.

"I hire someone to test!" he whispered ferociously and tightened his hands on the bar. The pulley whirred and Fox jerked off the ledge.

Selina secured the rope around her body and grabbed her bar. It climbed up the wire against gravity. Fox dropped onto the roof across the street and doubled over. She let go, landed on her feet, and hurried to him. "You okay?"

"We don't have to do that again, do we?"

She patted his back before moving to the zip line anchor. She detached the handlebars, packed them in the bag, pressed the retract button, and stepped back. The wire slacked then spooled into the anchor. Once it was done, she wrenched it off the roof access shed and inserted it into the zip line gun. "Hope you won't have an issue with the ladder." Fox shuddered, but followed her lead.

They didn't have any issues with the ladder or the fire escape, but Fox didn't relax until they buckled themselves into the Tumbler. "What happened to you two?"

"We were taken prisoner and our digs were no where near as nice as yours." She glanced from the screens to his horrified expression.

"I got the room for you and told Bruce...."

"It wasn't your fault. Batman chased after Bane, and I chased after Batman. We escaped four days ago."

"All this time?"

"We survived, Mr. Fox. That's all that matters."

Fox lapsed into silence as they drove back to the bunker. The c-can's doors sprang open as she turned the Tumbler and closed once she drove onto the hidden elevator. Bruce stood in front of the suit cabinet as the Tumbler roared to a stop. Selina grinned as she opened the Tumbler's roof. He moved to Fox's side first and offered a steady hand.

"You picked a hell of a time to go on vacation, Mr. Wayne." Fox accepted Bruce's help off the Tumbler.

"I didn't have a choice," he answered with a shrug. He moved around the vehicle and held out his hand to Selina.

She took it. "How close were you to suiting up?"

He pulled her to his chest when her feet hit the floor. "You had fifteen minutes." His arms tightened around her.

She saw Fox's eyebrows shoot up in surprise then settle back in a smile as she hugged Bruce. "Told you it wouldn't take two hours."

Bruce hummed noncommittally and turned them both to face Fox. The older man had turned to the computer screens showing the reactor information. "Did they hurt you, Lucius?" Bruce kept his arm around her waist.

"Not as of yet. Bane wants to destabilize the core further."

"Why?"

Fox leaned against the computer desk. "Bane said it was because the Special Forces operative snuck into Gotham."

Selina snickered. Bruce and Fox both looked at her. "And he came up with that after we escaped?" She nudged Bruce's hip with hers. "I told you they are terrified of you."

"I hadn't worked on the bomb yet." Fox unzipped his jacket, and set the pile of papers onto the desk. "But Dr. Pavel's notes hint at greater instability than his first paper suggested. Frankly, I'm nervous about them driving it around now."

Bruce let her go and picked up the topmost paper. "Why not just use the trigger?"

"Maybe the whole point was to bait a trap for Batman." Selina shrugged when both men looked at her again. "He knows who you are and how you fight."

"Good thing you went instead."

"So what now?" Fox asked.

"We need to block the trigger and Blake needs a suit," Bruce said.

"They won't use radio or cell. Too much interference. Infrared doesn't have the range. It'll have to be a microburst. Long wave."

Selina looked around the bunker as they opened another storage shelving unit. Bruce had set up the largest air mattress she had ever seen next to the back wall. "You boys have fun; I've earned a nap."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays! Hope you like your present of a chapter this week. I got a washing machine, a toaster oven, and _Man of Steel_ on Blu-Ray. And that will probably be the last film I watch/buy, because I'm really not happy with the direction the director and producers keep talking up. If you're really curious, asking me in the comments. And no, it has nothing to do with Ben Affleck. _Signs and Portents_ will go in a vastly different direction (once me and the Muse figure out which direction that is).
> 
> I don't know if anyone has been counting along with the Occupation count, but the Gotham/Monument City game was September 22nd so the story has reached December. Will it be a Merry Christmas in Gotham?


	25. Chapter Twenty-Four

  


### Occupation of Gotham City: Day 89

Blake jogged up the E. Henry Street in South Point neighborhood. Miranda Tate stood in the center of the street with her hands in her navy pea coat while Commissioner Gordon and Foley argued on the doorsteps of a modest brick brownstone. "This only gets fixed from inside the city!" Gordon said to the younger man hiding behind the door.

Blake grimaced and stopped next to Miranda. "What's going on?" he asked quietly.

"Deputy Commissioner Foley has lost his nerve," she said just as quietly. "You did not arrive with the other men?"

"I checked on my partner's family over in Randall and left later than I meant to."

The door shut in Gordon's face. He turned back to the street with a bristling mustache. "Glad you decided to join us, Blake."

"Sorry I'm late, sir. Ross' daughter wouldn't let me leave until I had breakfast."

Gordon's face softened. "How old?"

"Five, tough age to say no to."

"All ages are tough to say no to. We'll tackle the convoy that goes down Robinson Avenue first, then tag the Downtown one when it's on Scott Boulevard, and end when the third one is on Montgomery Avenue. Scout ahead and make sure our group won't draw attention."

"I'll call it in." Blake headed down to Starr Bridge, through Columbia Point, and found a block on Robinson made up of apartment complexes. Using the radios was a gamble--they had no reason not to suspect Bane was monitoring the frequencies--so he only said the block numbers. That done, he walked into an alley across the street, climbed up to the air conditioning unit desk that was even with the fire escape, and crouched behind it.

Members of the resistance drifted onto the block in pairs. Gordon spoke to Miranda as he gave her the Geiger counter. What the heck was the Commissioner doing on the street? So Foley flaked out, big deal. Stephens could run this op in his sleep. Blake snorted once.

Miranda nodded that she understood and they took their positions on both sides of the street as the convoy rumbled closer. "Heads up, heads up," Blake told them over the radio when the vehicles were two blocks away. Two men walked out between the Hummer and the bomb truck. The truck hailing the trailers braked for the pedestrians.

Blake lost sight of Miranda as the bomb truck passed between them, but Gordon shifted around the rear of the trailer and threw on the magnetic GPS unit. Did they get lucky enough to find the bomb on the first convoy they hit? 

The convoy was four blocks away now and Blake looked back down the street. He brought the radio back up to his mouth. "Mercenaries on your six." The group below moved up to the next intersecting alley, but men in military fatigues stepped out of it and blocked the street. The ones behind them yelled "Stand still! Keep your hands where we can see them!"

One of the mercenaries stepped up to Gordon. "Commissioner Gordon, you are under arrest."

"By whose authority?" Gordon demanded as more members of Bane's Army surrounded them.

"The people of Gotham," answered the smug bastard terrorist. They prodded the group down Robinson Avenue.

Blake remained still. Two terrorists lingered behind in his sight. He couldn't risk moving and attracting their attention. Their lingering was explained when a Jeep squealed to a stop next to them. Armed men dressed in jeans and leathers climbed out, Blackgate Boys. "Sweep this area. If you find any more cops, they are yours to play with." Blake remained silent through the jeers. Of course one skinny thug decided to walk down his alley. Blake didn't dare rattle the fire escape now.

The skinny thug kicked over garbage cans and peered into the dumpster. Unfortunately, he looked up directly under the air conditioner unit Blake hid behind next. "Found one!" He jerked up his pistol. Blake jumped onto the fire escape. The bullets hit the air conditioner. Blake climbed the ladder up to the roof. "He's on the roof!" The fire escape clanged behind Blake as he ran.

He jumped to the next building and sprinted to its roof access door. The cheap lock gave way when he kicked it. He didn't go down the stairs, but pressed his back against the shell protecting the door.

"He went down!" The structure reverberated as the skinny thug slammed open the door and galloped down the stairs.

Blake peered across the two rooftops. No one else had followed the skinny thug. He sprinted to his fire escape lookout. The alley below was empty. He clambered down it. Bruce's pointers did work; no one investigated what noise he made. He crept to the mouth of the alley and peeked out. The Blackgate Boys forced the door of the neighboring building open. They charged inside. He glanced down the empty street and moved across.

"There he is!" A bald-headed thug had lingered in the door.

Blake bolted for the alley opening ahead of him. Two pairs of feet pounded after him. Lessons living in the Narrows beat into him flooded back, only this time, a bullet hit a corner as he dodged around it. The maze of alleys ended and he surged across the street and onto a wooden pier before he skidded to a stop. A coil of rope was tied to the cleat at his feet. He kicked the whole coil off the end of the pier and it fell through the thin ice on the Queens River. The dark water welled up. He looked over his shoulder. The Blackgate Boys hadn't emerged from the alleys yet, but they were not far behind. He dropped off the end of the pier.

The rope burned the palms of his bare hands, but his plummet toward the freezing water stopped. He stretched one arm and wrapped it around the closest piling. He let go of the rope and hugged the treated wooden pole.

The boards above vibrated with footsteps. "Where the hell did he go?"

Blake held his breath and mentally reminded God, angels, or any saints listening that he could use a miracle about now.

"There's no where else he could've gone." The footsteps reached the end of the pier. Blake twisted his neck to look up. The bald-headed thug moved to the opposite side of the pier and sneered. "Found the pig." He pulled out a semi-automatic pistol from his belt.

Blake flinched as the bullet hit the plank above his head and then the ice below. "You missed him?" the shooter's buddy demanded.

"He's in a weird spot!"

"Face it, man, you can't aim worth shit."

The second bullet hit the piling below Blake's leg.

A third pair of feet stepped onto the wooden pier and continued toward their group. "Don't you boys know not to come into my neighborhood without asking politely," Selina said.

"You're just in time to help us out, pretty lady." A switchblade opened with its unmistakable sound. "Screams always make a pig come running."

Blake heard the shuffling feet, the masculine yell, and a body thudding against the planks. The shooter whirled from Blake. "You bitch!" and charged. Blake grabbed the rope and hauled himself up.

Selina moved like a black-wrapped ballerina. Her high kick slammed the bald-headed shooter face first into the planks right next to his buddy, who was tugging the knife out of his ass without letting Selina see it. She squatted between them and punched him in his knit-cap-covered head. "Stay out of the Docklands, boys. And thanks for the gun." She tucked it into the belt around her black jacket as she stood. "Are you in one piece?"

He rolled onto the planks and stared at the overcast sky. "Give me a few." He ignored the frozen-over dock stench as he breathed and then jumped to his feet. "Thanks."

"You should pick better playmates," she smirked.

"Yeah, and we should disappear before the rest of their play group looks for them." Selina headed toward the bunker and he fell into step next to her. "So why you and not Bruce?" He asked when they put a block between them and the unconscious men.

"He and Lucius went to get something from the Bat. Don't know what, I napped through the technical part of the conversation and woke up to intervene with Bruce's security issues." She shook her head. "I saw Gordon meeting you on this side of Midtown, and figured you may need back up."

"The Commissioner shouldn't have come out for this cluster--" He broke off when he realized what she said. "How did you see us?"

Selina stopped in the middle of the street and planted her hands on her hips. "Let's hash this out now because Bruce can't take another fight about it. He likes you enough that he tagged you along with Gordon, and you must have a clue how much he respects that man. So let it all out right now, how much you hate it, and never bring it up to Bruce."

Blake blinked at her while his brain stumbled over it. Bruce had planted a tracking device, implanted since it worked despite how any clothing changes. Bruce's parents were killed right in front of him, his best friend died because no one had reached her in time; that Bruce would track people he cared about made perfect sense. That John Blake ranked up there as someone Bruce Wayne cared about was more surprising. And that Selina Kyle was waiting to divert the hell Blake should raise over it that Bruce deserved. "You really love him."

Her brown eyes blinked. "That's not where I expected this conversation to go."

"You expected what? Take it out of me right now yell instead?"

"That's when I had to break Lucius and Bruce up last night. Thank God, jewelry makes electronic surveillance acceptable." She started walking again, but gave him sidelong glances. "You're really okay with it?"

"It just saved my life from a bullet or hypothermia. And actually I'm more in shock that you're so in love with him you'd protect him from the fallout he's earned."

She snorted. "I've only gone soft on him, so don't push your luck, Birdboy."

Blake shoved his hands into his coat pockets rather than rise to the taunt. "I owe you an apology. When you were at Bruce's house, all I could see is what happened to the Congressman and all the other men in your file."

"And the fact that I had been hired to do whatever they complained about for ninety-five percent of them meant dick."

"It did then." His admission shifted her bitter expression to perplexed. "I thought Bruce was your next target and he deserved better--"

"Better than the best grifting cat burglar in the United States born on the wrong side of the river," she snarled.

That hit a sore spot he hadn't been aiming for. "And I was wrong."

She stopped at the gate to the bunker's shipping yard, but didn't touch the lock.

"I was wrong, and I'm sorry I hurt you with it. You are the better for Bruce. You make him smile for God's sake!"

She smiled as she reached for the lock. "I do. Thanks, John." They entered the shipping yard. "But you still have to tell me what happened that ended up with you nearly falling into the Queens."

"I didn't fall; I jumped." He closed the door and the lift dropped.

"Jen told you to be like this, didn't she? So she wouldn't be the only one getting how-to-know-something-is-too-risky lectures in the future." Selina shook her head as she hung her jacket on the back of the computer chair and set the handgun on the desk. "Now what happened?"

Blake sat on a stool. No sense leaving a mess on the upholstered chairs. "We were looking for the core to tag it. Everybody else got scooped up by Bane's Army. I was on lookout, got spotted and chased by those Blackgate Boys." His frustration boiled up again, and his fists hitting his thighs didn't lower the heat.

"Shit." She slumped against the chair's back. "I don't know what Bruce is thinking, but I wanted their guns aimed at Bane's Army."

He looked at the computer monitors. "How do these trackers work?"

She turned to the keyboard. "Watch the map." He looked at the two stacked monitors on the right end as they zoomed in on Downtown of Gotham City. It stopped when the bottom monitor shows a glowing dot in the Gotham City Exchange." "Gordon's in the Dungeon," she said.

"Great." He almost wiped his face with his hands, but saw his palms before they touched his skin.

"Actually, it is. They don't kill anyone there, and no matter where he gets dragged to, we can rescue him." Selina leaned back in her seat. "I hope it's City Hall."

"Right where Bane's living? Why?"

"It would prove my theory on the hostage taking right." She swiveled the chair to face him. "I'd rather be wrong, but you know I'm not."

"Bane's made it personal with Bruce from the start."

The lift raised and lowered itself, interrupting their conversation. Blake didn't say anything about how her hand hovered over the gun on the desk until the men on the platform were revealed as Bruce and Fox. Bruce didn't miss her meager relaxation. "What happened?"

Blake stood. "We were tagging the core and Bane's Army caught everyone else, including Gordon and Miranda Tate."

"Gordon's in the Dungeon. Safe bet that the whole group ended up there," Selina said.

Bruce glared at the map image on the monitor. "How long do you need, Lucius?"

"Another day," the older man answered, "if we have it." He carried a rectangular box about the size of a large drink cup to a workbench pulled out of the wall near the Tumbler.

"We've had tighter deadlines," Bruce said with a wag of his eyebrows. "Blake, suit up for sparring." He turned to Selina and frowned at the gun. "Where did that come from?"

"I confiscated it from a moron who didn't know the first thing about gun safety." She took the clip out.

"Confiscated it."

"Thought that was better than shoving it up his ass for someone else to find and use. I know you'd hate that more."

Bruce turned to Blake. "Did you get hit?"

_That was quick._ Blake shook his head. "No, thanks to Selina." He hopped off the stool.

Bruce turned back to Selina. "We need a distraction, but it also needs to send a message to the people of Gotham."

Her lips twitched from left to right. "Big, so Bane and his idiots are staring at it while we're busy." Bruce nodded. "And the message to the people? They have a leader?"

"Something like that."

"Too bad the Batsignal is a hunk of junk right now," Blake said as he pulled off his ruined coat.

She grinned before spinning to face the computer. "Go beat each other up. I need to think."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! And we're getting close to the end of the story. I know it's the holidays and time with families and not on the computer etc., but I hope that something has developed that readers want to comment on. Even if it's how much you hate that I dropped the apple thief from the story.


	26. Chapter Twenty-Five

Selina took a deep breath in the shadows behind City Hall. Her nerves rattled between jealousy, rationalization, and dread. She did not like Miranda Tate and doubted Miranda's motives for interacting with Bruce, positive that the woman's help was all done to get the ring on Selina's finger. But since Bruce put the ring on Selina's finger, his asking for Miranda's rescue meant she was in the category Bruce assigned to everyone he could: he wouldn't see them die if he could stop it. That thought gave way to certainty that the profit wasn't worth the risk and Selina should run. The sheer fact that she was this rattled about this job meant she should put it off.

But Bruce was counting on her. She tightened the climbing claws on her hands and grabbed hold of the concrete building. _You are doing this, so plan for the best way in._ Up to the roof and in through the vents. Miranda wouldn't be able to exit that way, but Selina brought the climbing rope for her. If she had never done any repelling, she was getting a lesson tonight.

Selina rolled onto the roof behind the massive climate control unit and froze. All the hair on her body stood up. She knew she wasn't alone. Her footfalls were silent as she looked around the corner of the machinery.

Bane stood at the northwest corner of the roof. His hands gripped his flack vest and he stared at the bat symbol made of fire on the tower of the Cavalry Bridge. Her distraction was working as promised, but why the fuck wasn't he watching it from inside!

The rooftop access door opened. Selina gritted her teeth. _Sure, everyone come up and see the light show._ She pulled back behind the machinery.

"Where is your guard?" Bane asked.

"I left him inside," Miranda Tate's accented voice said as footsteps moved across the roof. 

Selina swallowed, but her insides refused to work thanks to sensory overload. Her stomach rolled. _Don't you dare throw up now!_

"I'm safe enough with you." Miranda's footsteps stopped. "Deshi basara," she said.

Bane responded in the same melodious language that Selina's ears did not recognize. She heard his clothing shift as he moved. She peeked around the machinery again. Bane wrapped one of his arms around Miranda's shoulders. She leaned against his side and wrapped an arm around his waist as they stared at the burning bat and talked. There was no hesitation in their speech, no coercion in their gestures. Selina pulled back from the corner.

Selina's brain took the evidence from her eyes and ears, and set it aside. Then it concentrated on moving her body without any sound. Her body carried through the directions rather than quake with revulsion. Two images battled in her mind as she landed on the ledge around the fourth floor: the hug she just witnessed and those same arms lifting Batman over Bane's head.

She sat down in the open window of Fox's former cell. They hadn't bothered to board it up. She automatically stowed her climbing claws back into her belt. Miranda Tate hugged Bane. Miranda Tate spoke fluently in a foreign language with Bane. Miranda Tate ditched her guard because she was on snuggling terms with Bane.

Selina's feet touched the floor. A wave of anger pushed up through her body. She silently mimicked a hissing cat to focus all the rage on one goal. The bitch would pay for betraying Bruce's trust in her. The bitch would pay for hurting Selina to hurt Bruce.

With that vowed, her brain slotted the evidence into place to allow her to figure out how to accomplish that. How deep was the bitch in with these assholes? Selina eased open the unlocked door to the hall and glanced down the empty hall. She remembered the way to the Mayor's office suite from the plans. She had thought Bane would claim it for his bedroom, but maybe he shared it with his snuggle-bunny. She choked down her gag reflex and glided around the corner.

The Mayor's office was across the hall from the elevator. The reception area behind the glass doors had become their new command center. Selina bit down on her bottom lip and tasted her waxy lipstick. At this point, she didn't think they could learn anything from their plans. She twisted the door knob to the Mayor's office.

If Selina hadn't been thoroughly convinced by the display on the roof, the unlocked door would have. Miranda Tate was no prisoner here. A woman's navy blue pea coat hung on the coat stand next to the door and it wafted a perfume blend of jasmine and frankincense as Selina stepped inside. Her eyes roamed over Garcia's photographs and displayed memorabilia, the shoved out of place desk, and the military cot set up in the center of the room. She turned back to the coat and ran her hands along it. The right pocket had something about the size of a marker but no cap. She pulled out a cylinder with a red button protected from accidental pushing by a hard plastic flap over it.

Her lungs burned and she sucked in air as she stared at the fucking trigger. Her fingers wrapped around it. _Think. If I take it, what is the worst that can happen?_

The mercenaries fired their guns on the crowd of people in the Dungeon. Bane pressed a button on the black sphere and a mushroom cloud exploded over Gotham's skyscrapers. Selina shook these visions out of her head. Taking it was too risky, but the thought of sabotage made her grin.

She pulled Bruce's EMP generator key fob out of her belt pouch. She punched the button and heard a whine from the trigger as the lights died. She held the trigger to her ear, but the whine didn't repeat. She tucked it back into the coat pocket, put the key fob back into her pouch, and slid out the door.

The hall was still empty. She eased her way back to Fox's prison office. A scuff against the floor made her pause at the door. Someone was between her and the easiest exit. She slipped the knockout spray out of her belt.

The mercenary whirled from the window with a lit cigarette hanging from his lips when she opened the door. Without breaking stride, she crossed the room and sprayed him in the face. His lunge transformed into a topple, but she caught him. She laid him on the cot before shutting the door and barricading it with a chair. "I'm not sorry for the trouble you'll be in," she whispered. She stubbed out the cigarette before hopping up to the window.

Now she had to get back to the Tumbler and tell Bruce. Her glance at the roof and ground revealed no eyes watching her. She sank the claws into the concrete side and swung off the ledge. Down she went until her feet touched the sidewalk around the building. She waited in the shadows for her eyes to adjust to her goggles again. Once the world returned to shades of grey, she moved down the shadowed path and ducked into the first alley. The Tumbler was three blocks away and still no alarm.

But her heart pounded like she had been caught.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it wasn't just jealousy Selina was battling with. How will this change the League of Shadows' plans?
> 
> This week has been fun so far: freezing weather, sore back, and if I have to go back to Walgreens for another change to my prescriptions, I may break out my best Bane impression to get through the line. In good news, I finished the rough draft for _the One Rule_ and started on the sequel.


	27. Chapter Twenty-Six

"Are you sure of this plan?" Batman asked as he landed the Bat in silent mode near the Trillium Park outflow channel. This was Nightwing's plan, based on legwork Blake had done for three months, and Blake was more than a little annoyed that no one wanted to try it before now.

Nightwing huffed as he climbed out of the second seat. "Trust me, they are ready to get out of there and fight. And they know how to follow directions." He landed on the ground and sprinted toward the concrete channel.

Batman lifted the Bat back into the air. He knew he couldn't do anything for Miranda and sent Selina as the next best option. Miranda had supported his reactor project and protected his company from Daggett. She didn't deserve what Bane could do to her. Selina would put aside her animosity to see that, hopefully. Right now, he needed to concentrate on this part of the plan.

The puff of smoke reflected in the industrial lights. He swung the Bat to the mouth of the sloped, concrete basin. Nightwing ran up, dodging the powerful cannons on the urban pacification prototype vehicle. The rocks pulverized under the blast. He hovered, waiting to see if another blast was needed, but a trim man in a police uniform climbed out of the hole. He barely straightened his back when a gunshot threw him down.

"No!" Nightwing screamed as he vaulted on top of the retaining wall and ran to the mercenaries grouped at the top of the overflow. A couple turned their automatic rifles at him, but he ran despite the bullets.

Batman bit back his snarl and pulled the Bat back to the landing space. He fired the grapple gun as soon as the canopy opened. His boots slammed into one mercenary, and knocked the man over the edge. He balanced on the concrete wall and punched the next one to the ground.

Across the channel, Nightwing slammed a mercenary into a nearby concrete post. The rest of the group converged on Batman. He punched, kicked, blocked, and threw. Bane's men fell to the ground and didn't get up. Nightwing panted as he looked down. More officers crept out of the hole. "Get up here and arrest these bastards. Is he okay?"

The officer kneeling next to the shot man looked up and shook his head. "Straight through his heart."

Nightwing's chin dropped to his chest.

The victim must be Blake's former partner. Before Batman decided how to proceed, the earpiece built into his cowl chirped that a message was incoming. _Speaking of upgrades,_ he thought as he stepped over the prone mercenaries. He leapt onto the Bat and picked up the radio microphone. "Batman here."

"There's a snag on my end," Selina's voice quivered. Before he could identify what emotion she was expressing, she continued. "I can't rescue Miranda Tate because she's one of them."

Blood pounded through his ears. But he didn't mistake what she said. She must have misinterpreted the evidence. "The League of Shadows doesn't recruit women."

"Then she broke that glass ceiling too. She wasn't locked up, she gave her guard orders, she and Bane were chatting in a foreign language, she had--"

"Miranda's allied with Bane, fine!" He interrupted her list of evidence. She wasn't wrong and that's what it meant.

"Fucked up, insecure, neurotic, and emotional; check. Are you two still at Trillium Park? I'll meet you there." Her voice had shifted to bracing, her way of soothing the blunt truth; her reiterating that they faced this together.

He couldn't bury himself in her now. He had to focus. If he was wrong about Miranda Tate, what else was he wrong about? "No, you need to tell Gordon and Fox. They can't trust Miranda Tate."

"Okay, but that won't--"

He talked over her. "Switch vehicles with Nightwing at the dump and lead a convoy of citizens out of Gotham via the Washington Tunnel. The Batpod has enough firepower to clear the debris."

The radio was silent for a heartbeat. "No, I don't agree with this plan. You send--"

"This isn't a debate! Get out of Gotham, take people with you, and don't put yourself in a position to be hurt by them again." He eased his fist around the radio mike open before he crushed it. "Batman out." He let go of the mike and turned toward the scuffle against the concrete. "You know how to be quieter than that."

Nightwing looked up at him. "I was being polite. What's going on?"

"You remember where the police chase ended, where I brought out the Bat?" Batman dropped to the ground.

"I remember. Why?"

"This will give you access to the Batpod." Batman passed him a key fob. "Trade vehicles with Catwoman at the dump and help Gordon find the bomb with the Tumbler."

Nightwing's forehead bunched against his mask. "You don't need me here?"

"You've given me an army. We have to get control of the bomb. Go." Batman took a deep breath as Nightwing left. He strode to the mouth of the overflow channel. A group of police officers hauled the unconscious mercenaries to the camp on top of the channel. He made a mental note to check these League of Shadows men were properly secured and the guards understood their tricks before they left this location. Another wave of officers climbed out of the hole and stopped as they realized they were out and Batman stood in front of them. "I need the captains and commanders. The job's not done yet." Those ranking police officers pushed their way to the front of the group and headed up the ramp. Batman faced them and pushed his worry aside.

* * *

Selina parked the Tumbler under the overpass above Crimin Avenue inside the parking lot for the dump hiding the reactor. Lucius and Gordon whirled to face the vehicle. She inhaled to bring her snarl under control. It was too late to wait in Miranda's new bedroom and beat the shit out of her. But when this was all over she would cross break into jail off her bucket list, and the bitch will need plastic surgery so Bane could recognize her again. She opened the canopy.

"What's changed?" Lucius walked toward her.

Before she answered, the hum of another, smaller engine echoed off the dump's office building. The insane motorcycle pulled up next to the Tumbler. Nightwing sat up. "I'm supposed to trade with you, but I don't know why."

Gordon frowned. "Where's Miranda Tate?"

To his credit, the Commissioner only blinked when she hissed like a cat. She needed to remember that; it did take the edge off her anger. "Tate is with Bane, his goddamn society mole." She strode to Lucius and held out the EMP generator. "I hit the detonator with this and it made a whine. Did I break it?" She saw Nightwing's mouth open out of the corner of her eye. "I couldn't take it and give away our surprise!"

He shut his mouth and jerked his head up and down before climbing off the Batpod.

Lucius rotated the EMP generator key fob. "It certainly wasn't good for it, but I'm not sure what the effects an EMP have on a microburst transmission. We still need to put that block on the core itself and bring it here."

"I'm supposed to help you with that," Nightwing said to Gordon. "And we're supposed to use the Tumbler."

"Do you even know how to drive it?" Selina sighed and held out the Tumbler key.

Gordon took it. "Don't worry, son, I've driven it before. Now if Tate is working with Bane--"

"She hugged him! My brain still can't deal with that ick!" Her whole body shuddered.

"Tate told us which truck has the bomb. We can't trust that tag. What did Batman ask you to do now?"

"He ordered me to open up the Washington Tunnel and get people out." She gritted her teeth. She was showing too much emotion to these men, since she was stuck with them instead of the one she wanted to be with. He needed her when he dealt with Bane. She was supposed to be his ace under his cape. Why was he sending her away?

If she continued asking herself that, she would start crying.

"Catwoman." Nightwing shuffled his feet before lifting his head. "Will you make sure St. Swithin's Boys Home and Mrs. Ross and her daughter get out?"

Her shoulders fell. If Blake was the only one to have people to get off the islands, she'd get them off. "St Swithin's I know; where do I find the Rosses?" He gave her the address in Randall and handed over the Batpod's key fob.

Gordon scrambled into the driver's seat of the Tumbler. "We'll start with the convoy on Montgomery Avenue."

"Good plan." Nightwing vaulted into the passenger seat. "So it was you that knocked the train tower over in the Narrows Riot?"

Lucius looked at Selina as the Tumbler's engine roar faded. "It's a good sign that he wants you safe."

Fox saw her entirely too well. She slid onto the motorcycle seat and tucked her arms into the steering controls. "I'll keep repeating that then." He heel pressed down the throttle and the engine roared. She steered with her shoulders and headed into the heart of Colgate Heights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I made a title image. It works as far as showing the characters and putting the title in a pretty font, but I'm not in love with it. So hit me with some image requests. What has stuck with you over the past chapters and I can manipulate out of screenshots or other photos?
> 
> And I want to apologize for the chapters ending up so short. They seemed much longer when I wrote the rough draft, and now that the end is in sight (and declared how many chapters are left), I hate to go messing it up now.


	28. Chapter Twenty-Seven

  


### Occupation of Gotham City: Day 91

Father Reilly wrapped his sweater tighter around his body as the banging on the front door continued. He winced as his knees popped going down the stairs. Mark ran down them with a baseball bat and passed him. "Mark, go back to bed!"

"You need back up. Somebody coming here this time of night is trouble." The boy reached the thick, front door of the boy's home. "Who is it?"

"They can't hear you through the door. Step back." Father Reilly unlocked the heavy door and pulled it open a crack. Mark pushed himself in front of the priest. A woman in a black, form-fitting suit stood on their doorstep. Something perched on top of her head that resembled cat ears and a black mask circled her eyes. "Can I help you, whoever you are?"

Her red lips smiled. "I'm Catwoman. Batman and the police are moving against Bane at dawn. Detective Blake asked me to get you boys out."

Father Reilly gaped at her. Mark stuck his head further out the door. "That's Batman's bike!" Father Reilly blinked and craned his neck. Sure enough, the motorcycle from the news footage was parked at the curb.

"Come in, please." He pulled Mark back and opened the door wider. She sauntered inside and shut it. "Blake sent you? He's fighting Bane?" He gripped Mark's shoulders.

Catwoman winced. "Blake isn't fighting alone. Batman freed the trapped police."

"Batman's really back?" Mark asked.

"He's really back." She looked at Father Reilly. "We've got a schedule here. Blake wanted me to get a family out of Randall too."

"Yes, yes. Go get dressed, Mark, and wake up the other children."

Mark tore upstairs to the dormitories. Father Reilly moved into the large classroom on this floor and clicked on the lights. Adults sheltering their families here rubbed their eyes as they sat up. He cleared his throat. "We have an evacuation order. Please get you vehicles ready to follow the bus."

"Who authorized an evacuation?" A man asked as he rolled off a cot onto his feet.

"Batman," Catwoman said over Father Reilly's shoulder, "Commissioner Gordon, and me. You're welcome to stay behind, but I will blow a path through the Washington Tunnel, and I recommend getting out before it's plugged up again." The adults stood and shook their children awake.

Father Reilly turned to her. "The children will probably want to see your motorcycle."

"I won't let them out until you get back." She sauntered on her high heels back to the front door.

He ducked into his office for his coat and the bus keys. He heard Mark in the stairwell. "Catwoman, not Batwoman. The ears ain't like Batman's." At least, they were out of bed.

The cold slapped his face when he opened the door to the garage. Snow had piled up against the large doors that swung out to the side street behind St. Swithin's. He thrust his shoulder against the wood and the doors scraped against the concrete and ice. The bus started without any difficulty. Thank God, he had asked Mr. Phillips to check over the engine and the mechanic had happily for being able to stay at the boy's home. He maneuvered the bus around the block. He parked behind the motorcycle with the massive tires and shut off the engine to save gasoline.

The boys and girls--both his original charges and the children whose parents went to the Dungeon--surrounded Catwoman when Father Reilly opened the front door. Rosalie stared down at her feet. "How do you walk on those?"

"Very carefully." Catwoman looked down at Aaron who patted her hip. "Your turn, short stuff."

"Did Santa get my letter? I told him we needed help, and Mark said to tell him to find Batman so I added that. Did Santa find him?"

Catwoman looked over the children's heads at Father Reilly. "Christmas is four," he glanced at his watch, "three days away."

"Santa Claus isn't real," one of the older boys declared.

Aaron's dark face fell. Mark wrapped his arm around the younger boy's thin shoulders. "Just like Catwoman and Batman ain't real, huh?"

Before a fight broke out, Catwoman said, "There was a guy who could've been in the Macy parade around the other night. Batman didn't introduce us."

A murmur carried through the children, but Jason's voice carried over it. "How come Batman took so long?"

Catwoman winced. "It took this long to find a way to stop the bomb from blowing up, and it might not work. That's why we have to leave Gotham today." She glanced up at the other families gathered in the hall. "Okay, we're taking Webb Bridge into Randall where I gotta pick up another family. Then we'll head to the Washington Tunnel. If anybody gets a cell phone signal, call friends and tell them to get out that way."

"What if they try to stop us?" Mrs. Calvin clutched her hands together.

"Leave them to me if that happens. Okay, let's mount up."

"Come on, children. Board the bus." Father Reilly flung the front door open and the children lined up as they headed to the yellow school bus. Catwoman waited next to the motorcycle while the children boarded and the families crammed themselves into their cars parked on the street. Once all the motors were running, she swung her leg over the motorcycle and laid her body along it. The ears on top of her head flipped down and turned into sunglasses over her mask.

The caravan moved quickly, but not as quickly as the motorcycle had driven in the broadcast of the police chase. The sky began to lighten as an orange band surrounded the city, but it glowed strongest over the East River as they crossed Webb Bridge.

Catwoman parked the motorcycle in front of a series of row houses. She ran up the steps and battered the second-story door. After a few minutes of continuous banging, it cracked open. She argued with whoever opened the door, tapped her foot on the doorstep, and then shut the door after an African-American woman carrying a blanket bundle and a child's pink book sack rushed down the steps.

"Make room, children," Father Reilly called out as he opened the door. Aaron and Mark scooted onto seats across the aisle, leaving the seat behind the driver's seat open.

She came up the stairs in a breathless rush. "John Blake really sent her?"

"She has Batman's bike," Mark said.

"She has Batman's bike," Father Reilly repeated as he closed the bus doors. "Father Reilly."

"Yolanda Ross." She collapsed into the open seat and adjusted the blanket bundle, which protested sleepily at the cold. "And my daughter Tara." She glanced down the bus. "No wonder John never brought any family. I always invited you for holidays, but he never said he had this many mouths to feed. Tyler never said anything either."

"Some people have an easier time admitting to being an orphan than others. Don't be too hard on Blake." Father Reilly glanced at her in the bus mirror to watch the seats.

Mrs. Ross pressed her thick lips together before speaking. "Not if we see him again. My husband? We'll see."

Catwoman picked up the pace as the city lightened. There wasn't any traffic to snarl as the caravan sped down Hicks Avenue and turned onto Hampshire Street. She turned the bike perpendicular to the bus and the children crooned with how both wheels rotated side to side. Her hand went up and Father Reilly stopped the bus. Once she was sure the caravan was stopped, she rolled the motorcycle up the block to the tunnel's mouth.

The stack of cars was higher than the roof of the bus, but didn't reach the roof of the tunnel. Bane's Army had strung barb wire in that space to keep anyone from climbing through. Catwoman sat back and swiveled her head. If she heard something, it was too faint to make it past the bus' motor.

She tucked herself against the motorcycle, which rocked back with the blast from the long-barreled guns mounted beside the front wheel. The children yelled as the fireball disintegrated the barrier. The hole was large enough for the bus. She waved for the vehicles to go through. Father Reilly shifted gears and the bus rolled forward.

Mark pushed aside his seatmate and opened the window. "Catwoman! You're not coming with us?"

"I have to help Batman kick Bane's ass!" The motorcycle roared as she peeled out and threaded the machine between the cars behind the bus.

The children cheered. "Hit him for us!" Jason added. The caravan pushed into the tunnel, but the figure in black was already gone from their rearview mirrors.

* * *

Montoya held her sidearm up and ready. She was three rows in from the front line, but her view ahead was still clear. Sunlight broke through the clouds and hit the tattered remains of the U.S. flags hanging from the buildings above their heads. Two Hummers with gun turrets bracketed the intersection between the police and City Hall. Armed men shouted from behind the vehicles. Bane's Army is what the reporters had labeled the mob. Montoya sneered at their lack of discipline.

Deputy Commissioner Foley dressed in his parade blues pushed through to the front line. She saw a bald giant strode out of City Hall. His long leather coat swayed in the breeze as he looked over his men and the columns of police officers. The mask buckled over his mouth and nose gave his head a snarling snout. Someone in Bane's Army found a megaphone. "Disperse. Disperse or be fired upon."

"There's only one police in this town," Foley said. Not that the yelling men ahead heard him, but the officers surrounding him hardened their stances. The drivers of the Hummers revved their engines. Foley stepped forward and the officers moved with him.

Bane turned to one of the armed men on the porch with him and waved at them. The gun turret on the left Hummer pointed at them. Montoya remembered her oath from graduation. _I do solemnly swear that I will support the Constitution of the United States, and the Constitution of the State of Gotham and that I will oppose the overthrow of the Government of the United States or of this State by force, violence, or by any illegal or unconstitutional methods. I will faithfully and impartially discharge and perform all the duties of a police officer of the Gotham City police department to the best of my ability. So help me God._ They had numbers on their side. Someone would make it through to stop Bane. She prayed it was her.

The Bat swooped from the cross street and fired. The bullets spun the gun turret away from the officers. Mercenaries scrambled out of both vehicles as the Bat's guns shifted and small rockets fired. The Hummer burst into flames. The Bat turned to the one it had flown over and fired on it.

Montoya screamed and the Bat was lifted up by the yells of her fellow officers as they ran forward. Her pumping legs carried her under the flying machine as it moved down the street. They surged around the flaming metal, ignored the bullets, and threw tear gas ahead of them.

The mob of men surged to meet them. The first thug that stopped in front of her never finished raising his automatic rifle. She tackled him. His head hit the pavement and his hands slid off the weapon. She confiscated it and fired at the mercenary who broke a cop's neck. The headshot dropped him.

Arms wrapped around her and heaved back. She dropped her hips. He shifted forward but tightened his arms. She aimed the rifle at his foot and pulled the trigger. One of the bullets hit his foot and he released her with a scream. She spun, punched him in the jaw, and dropped him to the street.

She pulled the weapon up against her shoulder and turned to the next opponent.

* * *

Gordon roared the Tumbler down Montgomery Avenue. The bomb truck threw itself into reverse to go back to the E. Eighteenth Street intersection. The rest of the resistance men rolled a city bus out from between the buildings. The bomb truck rocked to a stop as its brakes screeched. Gordon turned the Tumbler sideways and blocked Montgomery Avenue.

Nightwing pried his hands off the passenger seat restraints. "You missed your calling as a stunt driver, Commissioner."

"There's an idea if I ever get to retire." He opened the Tumbler's hatch. Stephens yanked the driver out of the cab while someone else did the same to the mercenary riding shotgun. "Be sure to read them their rights when you lock them in the prisoner transport van."

The men responded affirmatively as they cuffed the men. Bullock rounded the back of the trailer. His big jowls flapped. "Commissioner! It's empty!"

Booms echoed north of them. Nightwing flung himself back in his seat. "Catwoman succeeded at least."

"Regroup on Scott Boulevard!" Gordon shouted before closing the hatch. He gunned the motor and spun out as he turned to go down E Nineteenth Street. "Gotham City is not dying on my watch."

"We've got twenty minutes for the convoy to pass Apple Street on Scott." Nightwing tapped a gloved finger on the dashboard clock.

"Right." He shifted the gears, turned onto Roberts Avenue, and increased the speed.

Nightwing's hands curled around the seat restraint over his shoulders. "I hope Catwoman's sabotage worked. Just in case."

Gordon didn't say anything as the Tumbler crossed the Midtown Bridge. Even without traffic, they would barely reach the spot on time. He didn't want to chase the truck down. What would happen if they had to shoot it to make it stop?

They sped down Moses Boulevard and turned onto Apple Street next to Blackgate Prison. The limited windshield protected his view from the damage done to this block. He slammed on the brakes and stopped the Tumbler in the middle of the Scott Boulevard intersection.

Nightwing hit the button that opened the hatch. They stared down the empty street. Gordon looked north at the deserted other side of the street. They reached this spot with five minutes to spare. The convoy should be on this street!

"Son of a bitch!" Nightwing hit the Tumbler's metal frame. "Where the hell did they divert it to? This was the route they never changed!"

Gordon closed the canopy, and turned the Tumbler down Scott. "We have to find it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So did anyone else notice that the only orphans in Gotham are boys in TDKR? St. Swithin's being gender-separate didn't bother me as much as only boys entering the Martha and Thomas Wayne Home for Children at the end. So Father Reilly's been gathering the children the Occupation has made orphans of no matter what their gender, and there are girls on the bus now.


	29. Chapter Twenty-Eight

By the time Batman landed the Bat, the battle no longer relied on bullets but punches instead. He moved around the slugging participants and through the tear gas. Bane waded into the fray and shed his leather coat before he grappled with police officers.

A member of Bane's Army with a red scarf tied around his neck threw a punch. Batman stepped into it, wrapped his armored arm around the camouflaged one, and rolled the mercenary over his shoulder.

Bane tested the boundaries of the circle both cops and mercenaries left for them. "So you stayed to die with your city," he said as he focused.

"No," Batman answered. "I stayed to stop you." His arms blocked Bane's fists as the muscular man surged forward. He hit Bane's chest before Bane's right cross hit his jaw. He stumbled back, taking Bane's blows on his armor. He circled around until his back was to City Hall and he retreated from Bane's relentless, methodical pounding.

The police and mercenaries scattered as Bane kicked Batman onto the snowy stairs leading up to City Hall. Batman caught himself and climbed up them as he spun to face Bane. Bane reached the landing and blocked the punch Batman threw. The two opponents closed the space between them as well as moved closer to the building as they blocked punches from the other.

Batman grabbed the man with his right arm. Bane's left fingers seized an armor plate on his bicep. Bane's right hand wrapped around Batman's left first. Batman pulled Bane closer as he growled. Everything done to the people of Gotham, Blake, Gordon, Fox, Selina, and himself pushed up into his burning fist. Bane shifted, the hold broke, and Batman's fist hit the mask and chin.

Before Bane raised his arms, Batman slammed his armored knuckles against the tubes of the mask again. He spiked his elbow down on Bane's arm and released that latch. He grabbed Bane's neck for a headlock, but Bane head-butted his chest to push Batman back.

Batman continued backing toward one of the columns decorating the front of City Hall. Bane tossed one of the cops out of the way as he lumbered toward his opponent. Batman knocked aside Bane's punch and followed with a blow to Bane's jaw that jarred the bald head to the side. Bane faced him again and Batman slid the blades of his gauntlet through Bane's mask.

Gas hissed through the broken tubes and Bane groaned. He staggered back to fix it, but Batman jumped to kick him. Bane caught the vigilante and tossed him away.

His armored back landed on one of the second row columns. He pushed off the concrete straight at Bane.

Bane batted Batman away with a wild swing as he tried again to reconnect the tubes. Batman caught his next punch. Bane responded with more frenzied swinging.

The rapid blows to Batman's torso drove him against a column. Batman ducked the blow to his head and slipped behind Bane. Both Bane's fists hit the concrete column and cracked a hole into it. He yelled and spun around to meet Batman.

Batman dodged the wild swings by leaning out of the way. His blow to Bane's mask careened the massive mercenary in front of the glass doors. He ducked Bane's windmill fists before hitting the mask again. Bane stumbled back. Batman's rage poured out of his throat as his boot landed on Bane's flak vest.

Bane fell back through the doors. Glass shattered out of its panes and crunched under Batman's boots. He kicked Bane's kneeling body across the marble floor.

Miranda stood to the right side of the rotunda away from the windows. Her guard rushed at Batman with a short-barreled shotgun in one hand. Maybe he intended to blow Batman's head off at point-blank range, but he never pulled the trigger. Batman grabbed his gun, hit the mercenary's chest, and then slammed the weapon's butt down on the mercenary's head. He crumpled to the floor.

Batman broke the gun apart and tossed the pieces toward the windows. "You stay there!" He shouted at Miranda. He'd hear her shoes against the marble-tiled floor if she moved. The time to figure out her culpability in this was after he secured the trigger. He focused on Bane, kicking him until he rolled against the stone guards' desk. "Where's the trigger?" he yelled. "Where is it?"

Bane groaned.

He hauled Bane up over the desk and frisked him. No detonator. "You'd never give it to an ordinary citizen!" He rolled Bane over and shook him. "Where is it? Where's your trigger?" He punched the mask again. The escaping gas hissed louder. "Where is it? Where is it!"

Bane swatted at the hands shaking him, but his strength ebbed away. Batman released him and he slid off the desk and onto the floor with another groan. Batman sat Bane up and pressed his back against the stone desk. He knelt next to him. "Tell me where the trigger is. Then you have my permission to die."

Bane inhaled through the mask as his pained-filled eyes focused on Batman's. "I broke you. How have you come back?"

"You escaped out of a pit, so did I. Where's the trigger?"

"But I never escaped."

That didn't make sense, not with the story Barsad had told, not with Bane fulfilling Ra's plans for destroying Gotham City. "But the child. The child of Ra's al Ghul made the climb."

"But he's not the child of Ra's al Ghul," Miranda said behind Batman. He never heard her move and turned toward her. She stabbed a knife through the gaps in the armor plates. He grunted in pain as it slid into his side and grabbed her shoulder. "I am." She twisted the knife.

He froze with one hand on her, the other braced on the floor, and one wrong move would slice his vital organs.

"And though I'm not ordinary," she lifted her left hand and shoved the guard off the red button, "I am a citizen."

Batman reached for it, but she pulled the detonator out of reach. "Miranda? Why?"

Pity covered her face, but her eyes were as cold as mountain stone. "Talia. My mother named me Talia before she was killed; the way I would have been killed, if not for my protector, Bane." Her eyes softened when they turned to the mercenary. "Barsad did not tell you the whole story? He must have enjoyed raping your whore and forgot the rest of my orders."

"You ordered?" Batman dug his fingers into her shoulder. Selina's pain, his helplessness, the ruin of Gotham, all stemmed from this woman.

"I will tell you the history and loyalty you betrayed for what? A few acres of wretched concrete filled with human suffering? And here you are alone and helpless." The knife moved again. "Even your criminal whore did not stand by you."

He sucked in air through his gritted teeth. He shoved Selina away to save her. But they didn't need to know how important that was to him. "You were born in a prison?"

"I climbed out of that hell on earth. I found my father and brought him back to exact terrible vengeance. But by that time, the prisoners and doctor had damaged my friend, my protector." She reattached the tubes in Bane's mask.

What had they done to the man that he needed general anesthetic just to move? Batman didn't voice the question. The longer Miranda, Talia talked, the more time Nightwing and Gordon had.

"The League took us in, trained us. But my father could not accept Bane. He only saw a reminder of the hell he'd left his wife to die in. He excommunicated Bane from the League of Shadows." A tear slipped out of Bane's eye. Talia's fingers brushed over the mask. "His only crime was that he loved me. I could not forgive my father." She looked back at Batman. "Until you murdered him."

Bane slowly rolled to his feet, but Batman couldn't stop him. He focused on Talia. "He was trying to kill millions of innocent people."

Talia closed her eyes and nodded like he said exactly what she expected him to. Behind her, Bane picked up the discarded shotgun pieces and some rope. "Innocent is a strong word to throw around Gotham, Bruce," she said. "After all this and you still believe this city is worth saving."

Bane pulled Batman's arm off Talia, coiled the rope around it and his other arm, and tied them behind his back. "The people of Gotham are worth saving," Batman said.

"I honor my father by finishing his work." Her thumb caressed the detonator. "Vengeance against the man who killed him is simply a reward for my patience."

Bane lifted Batman up and Talia leaned in closer as loops tightened around his neck. "You see, it's the slow knife, the knife that takes its time." She caressed the button's edge. "The knife that waits years without forgetting then slips quietly between the bones." She twisted the blade again. Batman grunted with pain. "That's the knife that cuts deepest." She brought the detonator up his face.

One last chance to appeal to any humanity she may still possess. "Please--"

Talia pressed the red button and the detonator clicked, but nothing else happened. Her gaze moved to the windows and she pressed her lips together.

_Give them time to get the core to Fox._ "Maybe," Batman breathed past the pain, "your knife was too slow."

Her stony grey eyes flickered back to his face. "You found a way to block my signal. No matter." She yanked the knife out. Batman grunted with pain and doubled over, but Bane's grip on the rope kept him from hitting the floor. "So it's my destiny to follow my father, and Gotham will be my funeral pyre." She stood and looked at Bane. "I will detonate the core. Don't kill him. I want him to feel the heat." 

Batman looked up at her face. Now he saw the similarity between her and Ra's.

"Feel the fire of twelve million souls you failed." She stepped closer and brushed her fingers over Bane's mask. "Good-bye, my friend," she said softly before marching out of City Hall.

Bane's whisper was barely louder than his breathing, "Goodbye." He let go of the rope around Batman and raised his voice. "We both know that I have to kill you now." He kicked Batman's injured side. Batman fell and rolled onto his arms and back. "You'll just have to imagine the fire." Bane pressed the reassembled short-barreled shotgun against Batman's jaw.

Somehow Bruce always knew it would be a gun--thirty-one years late--and he stared at the black hole. But the blast hit Bane in the chest and shoved him across the marble floor and into a hallway. Batman turned to the glass doors.

Smoke wafted from the Batpod's cannons as Catwoman sat up. She panted before speaking. "About the whole no-guns thing." She shook her head and lifted her goggles. "I'm not sure I feel as strongly about it as you do." She swung her leg over the controls as she dismounted.

Batman rolled to his feet, but fell against the stone desk and braced himself against it. Her fingers curled between the rope and his armor and pulled him upright. "The tunnel?"

"Is open, people are fleeing, and you're Drunken Master now." She reached around him and loosened the rope around his arms and chest. Her gaze focused on the blood smear on the stone desk. "You're bleeding!"

"QuikClot is in the compartment behind the grapple gun." He pulled the rope off his neck. Catwoman took out the packaged gauze and helped him part the waist seam of the suit. She hissed at the wound, ripped open the package with her teeth, and pressed the QuikClot gauze against his body. He laid his hand on top of hers and added pressure as the burning seared his flesh to make a clot. He groaned through his gritted teeth.

"We need to get you to a doctor." She hugged him with her free arm and pulled the spool of medical tape from the compartment.

"No time, Talia al Ghul has the core." He lifted his hand and she flattened tape around the gauze. "She's determined to blow up Gotham today."

"Of course, why wait?"

Footsteps crunched over the glass again. "Batman? Catwoman?" Montoya slipped past the Batpod. Batman pulled his armor back in place. The officer gestured at the windows. "A bomb convoy just peeled out of the parking garage. The Deputy Commissioner tried to stop them." She clutched her automatic rifle tighter. "It's speeding down Badger Boulevard."

Batman turned to Catwoman. "We have to force that convoy east to the entrance to the reactor. I need you on the ground; I'll be in the air. Go."

She touched the bat symbol on his chest as she nodded. "I'll get the bitch before you." Montoya flattened herself against the wall as Catwoman drove the Batpod into the rotunda, turned, and sped through the front door. Batman ran out after her and headed straight to the Bat.

* * *

The bomb truck bounced over the debris littering the street. Bane had organized work crews and had the worst of their explosions debris pushed aside so this route of retreat was passable. In the next life, she must tell him how she appreciated his logistic skills. Talia's most loyal soldiers surrounded her, driving this semi and the Hummers protecting their cargo. Bruce couldn't stop her now. Her father had called him the best student he had ever trained in the last letter he sent to her. Had asked her to return to Bhutan and meet him. Ra's had been wrong about Bane and wrong about Bruce's loyalty. Talia would not repeat his mistakes. Bruce had allies in Gotham.

She pulled out her cell phone augmented to pick up the weaker signals available in Gotham now. The connection held and she tapped in the code of the reactor's emergency flood. The computer accepted her instruction.

Her lips curled up into her first real smile in years. No one would stop this purging fire, no one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings from the frozen South. My computer's weather app tells me it is 23 degrees outside. I have icicles hanging off my house and my car, and I'm pretty sure the white on the ground is more ice not snow. I'd go outside and take pictures, except a respiratory virus has been attacking me since Sunday. Every time I think the fever is gone, the thermometer jumps back up again. I fought that to get the next chapter out, so send me some comment love.


	30. Chapter Twenty-Nine

Batman rose above the buildings to see multiple streets below. He flicked on the radio controls for a live microphone. "Nightwing, Catwoman, the bomb is traveling down Badger Boulevard. Intercept the convoy and force it east to Crimin Avenue."

Catwoman shouted against the wind. "I'm gaining on them, just past Trillium Park."

"We're cutting back over to Moses Boulevard," Nightwing answered. "Where do we don't want them to go with it?"

"Old Wayne Tower. She wants to die where her father died." Batman spotted the convoy and swooped down closer.

"Where her father died?" Gordon repeated. "That terrorist nut who gassed the Narrows?"

"Ra's al Ghul, yes."

"What is with this family!" the Commissioner said. No one had an answer for him.

The Hummer on the bomb truck's right slowed down to cover the rear. One mercenary climbed up into its gun turret and opened fire on the Batpod. Catwoman swerved out of the line of fire. He fired on the ruined cars lining the street next to block her path.

The Bat swooped into sight and the mercenary turned the fire on the flyer. Catwoman gunned the Batpod and fired her cannons. The blasts hit and the Hummer exploded. Batman lifted the Bat away from the convoy. He had to let them cross the Narrows Bridge to get the core to the reactor.

The Hummer on the truck's left fall back to the rear and it had a rocket launcher turret. The mercenary aimed it at the street first. He fired a rocket as soon as they rolled onto the Narrows Bridge. The concrete and asphalt rained down in the frozen Gotham River, but the metal struts remained intact.

Catwoman didn't slow the Batpod at all. She drove up onto the wall protecting pedestrians from falling into the river and shot over the hole. The tires rotated until she stopped and lined up with the convoy again.

The mercenary aimed the rockets up at the Bat, shooting the rest of them into the air. The computer alarm blared at Batman and he grimaced. Five heat seeker missiles honed on his exhaust. He banked to the right and flew between the Downtown skyscrapers that looked down on Arkham Asylum. Two missiles exploded into the building he rolled the Bat over. Three continued to chase him.

"They've turned left onto East Fifteenth Street," Catwoman yelled into her microphone. "Nightwing, where are you?"

"We just turned onto Fourteenth Street!"

The Bat climbed over another building. One missile slammed into the side of it. Down to two. Batman pushed the stick and guided the missiles above the Narrows before swooping at car level up Montgomery Avenue. One missile slammed into a parking garage as the avenue narrowed past Saint Mary's park. He flew over the Hummer in the lead of the convoy with Montgomery intersected with East Fifteenth. The missile hit the vehicle broadside and pushed it into a building across the street.

Batman looped in the air over the buildings. He saw the Batpod fire upon the last Hummer and swerve around the flaming wreckage. The Tumbler roared up Charlie Street. The bomb truck sped up and the Tumbler turned alongside rather than ram the trailer.

He swooped the Bat in front of the truck and fired bullets as he flew down East Fifteenth. The truck didn't turned left or right onto Fifth Avenue. He continued firing and bullets hit the truck's cab. Through the windshields, he saw the truck's driver jerk and fall to the side. Talia shoved across the seat and grabbed the wheel. He lifted the Bat over the truck so they didn't crash.

The truck turned north onto P Street. "That's the wrong way!" Nightwing shouted. "Get up along the trailer hitch."

"You think you can decouple it?" Gordon asked.

Batman rose up to look at the vehicles. The man in black and blue armor climbed out on top of the Tumbler. He leaped, grabbed the ladder on the front of the trailer, and slammed against it. Nightwing recovered only to kick a protective cover over the coupling. Batman barked out orders. "Gordon, fire the towing cable and pull the trailer onto Martin Street. Catwoman, blow it free."

They only had a block to pull this off. Catwoman swung the Batpod perpendicular with the truck. The tumbler fired the towing cable. The metal claw latched onto the trailer's front corner and the Tumbler turned west onto Martin Street.

Nightwing wrapped his arms around the top rung of the ladder and tucked up his legs. The Batpod fired on the coupling and jerked into reverse heading east down Martin Street.

Metal shrieked as the trailer turned sideways on P Street. It remained upright as Catwoman fired another cable onto its rear bumper and pulled against the Tumbler. "We got it. Brake now," Batman said.

The truck's cab continued straight into the repaired granite façade of the Old Wayne Tower. Batman turned his eyes away from the rising flames to land the Bat.

* * *

The men ran for the trailer's doors, but Selina pressed the buttons on the Batpod's radio. "Fox, we have the core. Fox, answer please!" The radio produced static. She bit off her cussing and headed to the trailer.

Batman knelt next to the large black sphere that beeped worse than a dying smoke detector. "Is Fox ready?" He pressed buttons on the control panel. The beeping didn't stop.

"I can't raise him. Why is it--?"

"It's going critical." The buttons Batman pushed didn't do anything. "Get the cable from the Bat." Nightwing ran for it while Batman jumped out of the trailer.

"How do we stop it?" Gordon asked.

"I can get it out over the bay."

Selina breathed again as Nightwing and Batman hooked the cable to the core. "Set it to fly over the water, then eject--"

"No autopilot," Batman said to the core.

Everyone froze at that pronouncement, but Selina heard a whimpering gasp. No one else reacted to it and she managed to close her mouth. Batman turned from the trailer and strode toward the Bat. She matched his march. "You don't kill, your one rule."

He faced her. "My life has always been the exception."

She knew at the center of the growing hollow inside her that would be his answer. Just like Nightwing stepping closer to them was no surprise. "I'll fly it out--"

"You're not a pilot!"

She was the only on close enough to see the anguish in his eyes. He was the only one who could make this choice and none of them could change his mind. Tears welled up in her eyes, but he would not see them fall. "No regrets."

Bruce looked at her. "I didn't want--"

"No regrets! None at all." She seized his armored head and pulled his lips to hers. His hands tugged her hips closer as his lips and tongue bruised hers. She wrapped an arm around his neck. The nose of his cowl pressed into her cheek before he pulled back. She sprang her arm free and let him go.

Gordon moved between the Bat's gun turrets while Batman sat in the pilot's seat. "I never cared who you were."

"And you were right."

"Shouldn't the people know the hero who saved them?"

"A hero can be anyone. Even a man doing something as simple and reassuring as putting a coat around a young boy's shoulders to let him know the world hadn't ended."

Selina didn't understand the reference, but Gordon nodded as the hatch closed around Batman. He backed away as the Bat began to whine. "I'll respect that, Bruce Wayne."

The Bat lifted off the ground and the three of them left behind backed away as the cable grew taut. The core slid out of the trailer and skidded along the street until the Bat lifted it up above the buildings and into the blue sky.

  


### The End

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The One Rule Fanmix](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1183332) by [KLCtheBookWorm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KLCtheBookWorm/pseuds/KLCtheBookWorm)




End file.
